Something About Ron
by forbidden-fruit-vendor
Summary: Set in the time of the Goblet of Fire, nothing is cannon and will not attempt to refute later established cannon events. Harry and Ron discover their budding sexuality and awkwardness and fumbling ensues. Watch the two discover what their relationship means to one another. Warning: Slash HarryxRon, minor mentions of Fred/George may feature inappropriate language and sexual content
1. Something About Ron

Quick note to all my fans from different story genres, I'm back! I will most likely be continuing my other stories now that I was able to replace my poor laptop. I will however be leaving tomorrow for Ohayocon and I can't guarantee a date for my next upload. I'll try to make it quick!

I was rereading the Goblet of Fire when I had this idea for a fic. It won't be cannon obviously since the events of the next book waylay it a bit when Ron ends up with Lavender, and eventually Hermione in the long run. But I always like to think our favorite heroes have a bit of a soft spot for each other. This is my version of the Goblet of Fire if things had turned out a bit differently.

WARNING: SLASH, HARRY/RON PAIRING, EXPLICIT CONTENT, CURSING

Chapter 1. Hermione's Misgivngs

Somehow Harry had envisioned things a little differently. Laying on his four poster glaring up at the hangings, the Gryffindor banner still tied tightly around his waist despite his fruitless attempts to remove it. How could Ron of all people not believe him? His own best friend? He wondered vaguely if Hermione thought the same way… She hadn't been in the common room when their fellow Gryffindors were yelling themselves hoarse for a champion that clearly didn't want to be nominated. He hadn't expected her to be, but he doubted she thought he was putting himself on again. She must be able to see through this and figure out what actually happened. With a certain satisfied smirk on his face he had to think, 'She's definitely smarter than Ron.' Convincing himself on the matter, Harry made himself raise up off the mattress when he heard the dormitory door opening.

It was Neville.

"Congratulations Harry!" He said with a subdued smile as he saw Harry flinch at the words.

"Yeah…Thanks Neville. Can you, maybe, get this bloody thing off me?" He gestured limply to the rustling banner hanging down past his knees.

"Oh! Er- yeah, I think I can do that. I'm not the best with severing charms…"

A severing charm! Why hadn't he thought of that? Because he was so upset with Ron for being a prat? Or perhaps he was just thick? His stomach lurched when he thought that that might be just the kind of oversight that could get him killed in this tournament. He hadn't given much thought to the many deaths Hermione had mentioned before the selection. Then again, he was sure he wouldn't be chosen because he hadn't entered.

Neville approached Harry with his wand out.

"D-Diffindo!" Neville said a bit shakily, pointing at the banner. Unfortunately Neville's hand slipped a bit and slashed open the front shirt of his robes revealing a small expanse of white skin beneath. The banner however fell gracefully off of him. Despite the shirt Harry felt himself give a sigh of relief. It felt as though some of the stress of the night had come off too. Not near enough, but some.

"Harry, I'm so sorry! Did I cut you?!" Neville squeaked in shame, and before Harry could stop him reached through the small hole and felt around with concerned fingers.

"NO! No I-I'm fine. Just the shirt." He stammered quickly pulling away from Neville. "Thanks a lot Neville." Neville nodded his head, and moved forward to dress for bed.

Leaning back into his four poster Harry dearly hoped tomorrow would be a bit better. And maybe Ron would come to his senses and apologize. Drifting off into an uneasy sleep he realized this was the first time he'd ever actually seen Ron get upset with him. He didn't like the feeling very much at all.

"You should really talk to him, you know." Whipping around Ron saw Hermione sitting stonily in an armchair, her fuzzy pink bathrobe draped off one shoulder as she put the book she was reading on the small end table beside her cozy fireside chair in the common room.

"What are you doing up this early?" Ron asked hurriedly, and perhaps a little more snappish then he meant to as he saw Hermione's lips twitch into a frown resembling something like McGonagall's.

"I could ask you the same question." She retorted.

"I-I couldn't sleep anymore. I got hungry. Thought I might go ahead for some breakfast."

"Are you sure you're not trying to avoid Harry?" Hermione asked calmly, as she often did, to lead him to an answer he was unwilling to find himself.

"And so what if I am?! Don't think you can just butt into this Hemione!"

"Oh, like it won't concern me if you both suddenly stop talking over this nonsense? I'll be thrust in the middle and you know it!" She prickled dangerously, and Ron knew he'd get absolutely nowhere by shouting back at her.

"You don't actually think Harry put his name into the goblet do you?" She always spoke with the air of already knowing the answers before she got them. It irritated Ron to no end. Ron thought about last night after his name was called, and with a hard swallow realized it had been to him Harrry's face swiveled to meet first.

'I didn't do it. I didn't put my name in,' Harry whispered fervently. 'You know I didn't, Ron.' His face was stark white, beautiful green eyes pleading with him silently….

"No, I guess not. But how else-"

"That was an extremely powerful object to get past, even if he really wanted to Harry couldn't have. You'd have to make it think you were from a completely different school I expect… How else would him and Cedric both have been chosen?" Ron looked down at his shoes, dreading the onslaught he knew was coming.

**Ron's POV**

"So, why are you really mad at him?" Ron couldn't meet her gaze.

"It's just….always him, you know?" Ron said quietly to his shoes after a time.

"So you're jealous, because he gets all this attention you know very well he doesn't want. And for the most part, can't even control?" Hermione's temper was rising again, he was sure she was going to wake someone by shouting.

"I've been quiet about it for a long time! And it's not about him…" Ron trailed off into mumbles embarrassed that he'd said anything.

"What? What is it about then?" Hermione's voice was unusually soft. Ron looked back up to meet her gaze, and seeing her eyes sparkle with concern a bunch of words he hadn't even meant to say were tumbling out of him faster than he could catch them.

"Everyone already things he's so great because of… everything. And now they're going to pay even more attention to him.."

"Ron wha- Who?"

"Everyone! Just… girls giggling around corners at him, and guys staring at him. Everyone thinks he's so great, and I'm just Ron! Just…poor, and- and-" Ron gestured wildly. "And one day he's just going to forget I exist anyway…"

"You think Harry is going to forget you exist? Ron.. What exactly is going on?" Ron felt his hands tremble, he couldn't have this conversation with Hermione. He loved his friend very much, but how could he tell her any of his private…? Without a thought, he started backward.

"I can't talk about this. I- I'll be at breakfast." Hermione finally rose from her armchair and made a movement as if to stop him, but he darted around her and bustled out of the portrait hole and down the stairs.

**Harry' POV**

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted, Hermione thought she saw some hint of longing in his eyes as he questioned her.

Erm…yes…he was at breakfast," she said as evenly as possible, thinking back to the odd exchange with him this morning. Something definitely wasn't right about this whole thing, but she couldn't quite put the pieces into place. Ron was having some definite problems that he didn't seem keen on sharing with her. She thought she almost knew what was going on, if she could just think….

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"Well…no, I don't think so… not really," said Hermione awkwardly, debating on how much information she should share. She wasn't even sure she understood it all to be honest. Until then she didn't think it a good idea to try to explain it.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?"

'Good question,' Hermione thought bracingly. She launched into the explanation she knew, that when people saw Harry they just sort of ignored Ron. At the sight of his face she apologized, but didn't know how to explain what she thought might be going on without jumbling up Ron's intentions. This would be so much better if she could get the two to talk. She implored him to speak Ron again, but nothing doing. Even the prospect of borrowing Pigwidgeon to write to Sirius wasn't getting any results. On the trek back to the castle she thought once again about Ron and his strange reaction. She'd never seen him that nervous before, it wasn't just concern for Harry though she was sure that was part of it.

She definitely understood Ron's need for a companion, especially being overshadowed by siblings when more often than not your only friends during childhood ARE your siblings. How must he have felt when Harry Potter befriended him, when he himself had felt nothing about him was friendship worthy…

But Ron had plenty of friends now that he was at school, of course she know that him and Harry and herself were exceptionally close. Ron was by no means unpopular however. Something about his face this morning when he was speaking of Harry rubbed Hermione in a weird way. She desperately wished she could look something up in the library.

"What are you looking like that for?" Jolting her back to her senses she looked at Harry.

"Nothing, I just want to get to the library."

"Is this about spew again?" Harry asked, somewhat exasperated.

"What? No!," she said a bit too loudly. Harry stared at her. "No, it's about Ron. I just need to figure something out." Harry's head snapped forward, convinced not to listen to another word about Ron.

"He was acting a bit strange this morning, I just need to look something up that I think might help him." She said offhand, knowing his curiosity was peeked, and despite himself was listening hard.

They walked in almost complete silence back up to the caste to send Sirius' letter and it wasn't until they were finally walking back down from the Owlery that he finally cracked.

"So, what's his problem do you think?" Harry said in a very fixed tone, not looking at her. Hermione paused, about to answer and instead changed her mind.

"How about you ask him? It might help his mood to know that you care." Harry's cheeks tinted slightly.

"Care?! I don't care…" But judging by his face, Hermione was willing to bet a large sack of galleons that he most certainly did.

**END OF CHAPTER ONE**

Please review! Any flames will be discarded, you will not pass go, nor will you uncover 200$, but you will go straight to jail…Maybe.


	2. Moral Support

**Harry's POV**

The first week was the absolute worst in Harry's memory. Once it became clear that the Ravenclaws weren't even going to support him he considered his hopes thoroughly dashed. Hermione was sticking next to him through everything, but in the end (reluctant as he was to admit it), she just wasn't as fun as Ron. Of course Hermione was one of his best friends, and she could spit out the occasional good natured barb, but given the circumstances Harry was a lot more subdued than normal. Getting him to laugh and enjoy himself would have taken nothing less than one of Ron's at length soap boxes comparing Snape to a Lethifold with an attitude problem. Harry almost laughed at the thought of it.

"What are you looking so happy about?" Harry turned to look at Hermione sitting next to him, her mouth turned up lightly at the ends in a small smile. In a peculiar way, Harry felt like she had caught him in something.

"D-didn't you see that? Neville knocking that wastebasket into Dean?" Harry said somewhat defensively.

"And you've been silently laughing about it and not moving for about ten minutes?" Hermione asked knowingly as she waved her wand. One of the miniature pillow cushions from the center pile in the classroom soared obediently over to her desk and plopped down in front of her. She reached out and felt the plush cushion fondly.

"Very good Miss Granger!" Flitwick pronounced. "Don't forget that nice fluid wand movement. Make sure it's done gradually, otherwise your control on the object could be compromised! Remember to concentrate now!" He belted as he collected the claimed cushions from his stepstool at the front of the room. Harry sighed and raised his wand focusing on a particularly fine orange plush cushion, the cushion dove from its numbers and slid weakly towards him and to a halt less than three feet from it's original place.

"So what were you thinking about that made you smile like that? Also, you're going to have to concentrate more if you want it to actually make it to the desk, Harry…"

"Oh! I wonder why I'm not concentrating?!" He spat vehemently. Jabbing his wand towards the orange plush again. This time it actually skidded away from him. He dropped his wand defeated to the desk.

"I was just thinking about what Ron would say, if he were still talking to me that is." Harry muttered apologetically to the abashed look on his friends face from the outburst. Her look softened.

"You shou-"

"Don't tell me to talk to him Hermione! Besides, he looks like he's having a perfectly grand time without me." That, at least to Hermione might have been a matter of opinion because she turned around in her seat to get a good peek at him.

"Don't look!" He hissed at her. She snapped back to Harry with a curious expression.

"What?" Harry asked, planting his head in his hand, resting his elbow on the desk.

"I think I might be close to figuring something out… I'll get back to that though. I think maybe for the sake of the summoning charm at least, it would help to sort of get these distractions out. You want to talk about it Harry? I won't tell you to talk to Ron if you don't want to, but if you'd like to just get all of your feelings off your chest it could help you feel better." She muttered the incantation and the bright orange pillow Harry had been trying to summon earlier soared into her open arms. Harry stared so pointedly at it Hermione looked somewhat disturbed.

Harry was tempted to say he didn't want to talk. More often than not he liked to just sort things out in his own head, but looking at Hermione clutching the orange pillow he felt a rush of loneliness. It was as if they were a world apart from each other.

"I think that's a good idea actually." He replied. Hermione held the cushion out to him. Harry saw there was gold threading on the edges, but otherwise was a simple looking pattern.

"You want to touch it?"

"That was the one I was aiming for earlier." Hermione smiled warmly and placed it tenderly on his desk. Harry reached out a hand and pressed his fingertips to the center. It was a lot comfier than it looked.

**Ron's POV**

Tuesday when Ron woke up he just knew it was going to be a bad day. Not that days had been great since he and Harry had fought, but when he saw the Slytherins that morning wearing those dumb badges he all but groaned on his way to what he was hoping was an enjoyable breakfast.

"Hey! Weasley! Where's your boyfriend?" Ron wasn't intending to react, but the word boyfriend just about made him jump right out of his skin. His head jerked up to look at Malfoy sniggering next to Parkinson. He had time to register they were all wearing something on their robes, but not enough time to realize what it had said.

"Did you two have a fight? Maybe you'd like to wear one of these then!" And Parkinson had thrown him one of the badges. For a split second Ron thought they had fired a jinx at him, but upon realizing it was solid reached up to catch it before it hit him in the shoulder.

"SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY- THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!"

"Press it Weasley!" Almost mechanically, and without looking up at them he pressed his finger into the badge.

"POTTER STINKS"

"Sod off!" And gripping the badge tightly in his hand he sat himself down at the Gryffindor table on the far end of the hall trying to ignore the uproarious laughter at the Slytherin end. Before he could even reach for some bacon though, the Creevey brothers sidled next to him.

"Hey Ron! Um… we saw just now what happened. And we were wondering…" Ron's stomach tightened as he looked up at Colin. This was it, they were going to ask about the boyfriend comment, he just knew it. What would he say? He could always pass it off as a joke.

"Could we have that badge?" Ron started looking down at the badge, startled he was still holding it.

"Why do you want it? Aren't you supporting Harry?" He asked. Surprised, that the same pair that always followed Harry everywhere, and adored everything about Harry, would want a SUPPORT CEDRIC badge. With a twinge he thought maybe _nobody _was planning on supporting him. Guilt settled over Ron like a dark cloud.

"Of course we are! We just wanted to try to fix them to say 'SUPPORT HARRY POTTER' instead!"

"Yeah! Don't you think it would be great?" His brother squeaked.

Ron snorted, luckily the brothers hadn't noticed. He passed over the badge.

"Yeah, I think that would be a great idea Colin. He needs the support." The Creevey brothers ran off, most likely to begin work on correcting the badge.

His stomach ached, which he forced himself to think was because of lack of food. He piled some sausage and bacon onto a plate and was just heading into some of the fluffiest eggs he'd ever had when the twins appeared on either side of him. It wasn't often that the twins actually spent time with him to be honest. True, they were closest in age and when they were home they used to spend time together, but the companionship waned once the twins got a little older, and Ron had made friends with Harry and Hermione. They didn't speak at first, but occupied themselves with loading their plates. It wasn't until George bit into his toast that Fred spoke from Ron's right.

"You want to tell us what's going on?"

"No." He said icily. If the twins thought he needed company they were sorely mistaken.

"Alright, but just so you know, at some point you'll have to stop acting like you have kneazle dung for brains." George commented on his left.

"I realize that." Ron said taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

"Until then, we'll be here with you." Ron stopped eating for a moment, and looked up curiously at George.

"Did I tell you that I needed you?" Ron fired back to his brother, who was smiling in a sly knowing way that really grated Ron's nerves this early in the morning. Ron felt Fred's hand on his shoulder and he turned to face the mirror image on his right.

"Oh, Ronnie, you didn't have to say anything."

Ron sat back, not so interested in his breakfast anymore. An odd cold sensation had overcome his stomach completely removing his appetite.

"How long have you been in love with Harry, Ron?" George said nonchalantly from the left. Ron swung around wildly about knocking his glass over with his elbow.

"Would you keep it down?! How the blazing hell did you find out?!" Ron sputtered trying to catch his breath.

"Please, Ronnie, how could we not notice with you practically undressing his robes with your eyes everywhere you go?" They were being so carefree about it all Ron was very close to forgetting composure completely and clocking one of them square in the jaw.

"If you leave your mouth open the doxies will fly in there little brother." Ron had the distinct impression they were enjoying how flustered they were making him so he forced himself to turn forward and dig through his breakfast.

"Last year." The twins nodded in understanding. "The dementors drained him so much last year, and…" He wanted to go on to relay his guilt at keeping Pettigrew as a rat for several years without knowing, but the twins couldn't know about that.

"I just wanted to protect him and I thought it was relatively normal until the last Quidditch match." Ron murmured to his plate, shoving an errant bite in to have something to do more than from actual hunger.

"Ah, Quidditch, plaguing us with sexual needs our bodies are too young to understand." Fred replied wistfully while Ron about choked on his bacon. George thumped him on the back.

"You remember that time in the changing rooms Fred?"

"How could I possibly forget Georgie?" They looked fondly toward each other breaking into simultaneous grins while Ron struggled to understand what was going on in between them. He caught them looking at each other, and something clicked into place. He sat back.

"You know, I knew you had to be doing more than making products up in your room. Occasionally, there would be noises. I knew they were one of you somehow.."

"Brighter than you look, little brother." They said in unison, and grinned in appreciation of the other. Ron always found it to be somewhat unnerving how they managed to do that, because it never sounded rehearsed. More like a part of their brains were in sync somehow.

"So, if you said it was so incredibly obvious that I like Harry, then why hasn't he noticed?" Ron asked, pointedly. Focusing more on sweeping the newfound facts about his brothers under the rug to contemplate later.

"Well, Harry has a lot on his plate right now." Fred responded, mouth full of hash. "Not literally of course, since I don't see him at the table…"

"But you know what we mean." George finished as Fred struggled to swallow his rather large mouthful.

"Then, it's not completely obvious then, is it?" Ron replied waspishly. As irritating as he was at the moment the conversation was actually serving to siphon off some of the things that had been weighing on him recently.

"Well, seeing as we noticed-" Fred started, recovering just enough to reach for his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"And Hermione noticed-" George said conversationally as he bit into a ham croissant, while Ron sat reeling.

"HERMIONE?!" He hissed, feeling his blood pump in his ears. His words were completely drowned out by the post owls swooping into the Great Hall, but his brothers seemed to have guessed what he had said.

"Well yeah, it's your own fault you got stuck being friends with the smartest girl in school. Did you really think she wouldn't put two and two together Ronnie? Get you head out of your arse for one bleeding minute and you'd see what's happening." Ron could not believe he was having this conversation with his twin brothers, both of which were going about their morning acting as though this whole scenario were nothing more riveting than commenting on the weather. Fred had just detached the morning prophet from an owl, still searching the ceiling as though expecting something more, and George had grabbed the sports section the minute the paper was set down, muttering about the new Ballycastle Bats lineup. It was so surreal he felt like he was about to explode.

Not to mention the bomb that had just been dropped on him. _Hermione knew. _How had she found out? And here he thought he had been pretty reserved about his feelings. He felt certain she would tell Harry when she found the opportunity, or had she already told him? His heart sunk. What would Harry do once he told him? Would he ever speak to him again?

"So are you going to finish your story?" George asked brightly from behind the paper.

"Wha-?" Ron snapped, breaking away from his thoughts. Fred was staring at him expectantly finishing some bacon rinds.

"Last Quidditch match, go on." Fred nodded encouragingly. Ron gaped at him, and shaking his head slightly to clear his head he took a swig of pumpkin juice.

"I dunno. He was just so sure of himself, the way he handled that dementor. Well, technically it was Malfoy…" Ron smiled lighty at the memory of Malfoy blasted to the ground by Harry's protective charm. Robes flying behind him, raven hair swirling delicately in the wind, one arm pointed mercilessly toward the ground holding his wand, the other hand stretched before him for the snitch.

"I remember that Malfoy kid." said George smiling from behind his paper.

"Fucking prat." The twins chimed together.

"Sorry to interrupt-" George intoned.

"Please, continue." Fred gestured politely.

"Well, I guess that was the first time I ever acknowledged him, physically in any case. It just hurts knowing that if he found out, he might not even want to be friends anymore, he might be so disgusted he can't look at me or something. I mean, he could easily be friends with anyone in this place, he's Harry Potter." Finally he was able to say what was truly bothering him, and to his surprise it was to his own brothers. He had seriously underestimated their tolerance for him if nothing else.

"How do you know he doesn't like you mate?" Fred asked conspiratorially from his goblet.

"And what's this rubbish about him not wanting to be your friend or replacing you? Merlin's beard Ron, you defeated McGonagal's chess set to go _**toward**_ You-Know-Who for him. Which seems like an amazing display of stupidity to me, but-"

"And your second year, going into a girls toilet, to access Slytherin's Chamber of Certain Death, to help Harry fight off Salazar's pet Basilisk with fifty year narcolepsy and you think you're replaceable?" Fred snorted and shook his head as George put down the paper with a stark look on his face. Fred leaned forward expectantly.

"Lineup?" Fred said, switching sections with George.

"They set Lewinsky as the second beater." George said, kneading his brows. Fred made a disgusted noise from across the table.

"Grindewalds' Gangrene! I knew it was coming. What are they thinking? He doesn't have the upper body strength for long term endurance. If any match lasts over forty five minutes or longer he'll be next to useless." Fred prattled on.

"Gods forbid if he gets injured." George raved throwing his hand in the air. They both took a minute to sigh about the condition of the bats, and gave Ron a bit of a reprieve. He even started to relax a little bit, maybe the twins were right. He had done a lot of stuff for Harry, and even this little spat wouldn't destroy their friendship. Maybe his feelings weren't so much of a curse of death either.

"Well, Ron, we could sit here all day reassuring you about your own abilities, but you alone know what's right and what isn't-" Fred replied now picking up the sports section.

"In any case, that's not what we're here for." George said, rifling through the Marketplace section of the Prophet.

"Yeah, about that. Why are you here again?" Ron asked. They both looked up at him surprise.

"Moral support." They intoned in that eerie simultaneous way of theirs. Ron nodded slowly.

"When you're finished, can I see the sports?" The twins cracked into grins, and Fred silently handed over the section.

**END OF SECOND CHAPTER**

Thanks for reading! Make sure to comment, and I always take suggestions! Especially for Harry/Ron because they are my absolute favorite!


	3. What Hermione Does Best

Chapter 3: What Hermione Does Best

"So, you want to tell me what all that is for?" Harry asked, plopping his charms homework on the table. Hermione who was thumbing through a thick volume did not look up.

"All what?" Hermione asked, distracted. She had purposefully came up ahead of Harry, cutting off dinner, so she could set up shop at her favorite library table and look some things up without being disturbed.

"All this stuff. It can't be for homework." Harry proclaimed, snagging a book from the table and flipping it to look at the cover properly.

"_What the Heart Knows_?" Harry read off expectantly, raising his eyebrows to Hermione for an answer. She was chewing her thumbnail and reading, but did not look up or say anything to him. He kept on, pulling another book off the stack.

"_Sexual Psychology_….?" No response.

"_Great Awakenings: A Wizards Guide to Unusual Sexual Desires_?... Hermione, what is going on?!" His tone finally jerked her away from her volume, _Lifestyle of the Loving, _and looked up at him.

"Hermione, are all these books about…Well, about _sex?" _Hermione nodded and made to put the book she was reading in her bag, and pulled out her charms work.

"Why are you reading about sex?" Harry asked picking up on of the books she had left out, and flipped through the contents.

"Well, I want to be good at it don't I?" Hermione said sweeping the rest of the books on the table into the bag and looked up at him flipping through one of the books. She snatched it out of his hand hurriedly. Harry had an oddly slack look on his face.

"Hermione, that last one…Most of the chapters looked like they were centered around… guys who like other guys. Why would you need a book about gay wizards?" Harry was looking at her, as though he never really saw her before. Hermione felt her cheeks flush as she struggled to find an answer.

"Oh, you know…just curious I suppose." She replied, and Harry's look became, if possible more confused.

"Harry, how do feel about… Oh, never mind. We can just work on charms." Shaking her head she opened her text book, but Harry grabbed her wrist. Hermione looked up surprised.

"How do I feel about what? Just tell me, this is getting really weird." Hermione stilled her hand and looked up at him.

"How do you feel about witches or wizards who are homosexual; attracted to the same gender?" Harry looked as though he was pondering the question, but it didn't look like he was disturbed by the prospect. That was a good sign at least.

"I haven't really thought of it, I know the Dursleys hated gay people. One time, there was a woman in our neighborhood, Mrs. Bilthley, her son came out of the closet. My Uncle ranted on all dinner talking about how he always knew he was no good, and people like him were threatening modern marriage or something. But I never understood what he meant by it. Personally, I thought he was generally likeable. He was ahead of me and Dudley by several years, so he'd never been threatened into hating me. He wasn't my friend really though, he was just one of the few neighbors who didn't cringe when he saw me outside. He moved away about a year ago, and I haven't seen him since." Hermione nodded encouragingly.

"Have you ever thought about being with a man?" She asked tentatively. Was it her imagination, or did Harry just blush a tiny bit? He at least didn't look insulted.

"I mean…maybe once or twice." Harry mumbled more to himself than to her. Hermione felt her unspoken words catch in her throat as she saw Harry smile slowly.

"Hermione! Do you think you might be a lesbian? Is that what this is about?" Hermione's eyes widened, and the sudden hilarity of the situation caught her. She was sitting in her school library, talking with Harry about being gay. She burst out laughing. For a minute, Harry looked concerned, and slowly he started to shake and soon they were laughing like maniacs in the library over their charms homework. All the hilarity soon ended when Madam Pince, the school librarian who seemed drawn to any amount of noise, soon loomed over them.

"What is all this racket?! People are trying to study!" And without preamble proceeded to kick them out of the library. Walking back to the common room, they were still occasionally giggling over the whole situation. Harry finally calmed down enough to look seriously at her for a moment.

"Sorry, I got us thrown out." Hermione looked up at him still grinning.

"It's all right, I started it after all." _And at least I got a few answers. _She thought to herself. And for her friends, Hermione would give up all the books in the library.

RON

He didn't get a chance to corner Hermione until the next day when he caught her before bed, coming out of the women's washroom wearing her bath robe and toweling her hair. He touched her arm to get her attention and she swung around and struck him in the face with her wet towel. Stumbling he got back up and grabbed her arm hurriedly, to prevent her from clobbering him again.

"Hermione! You don't need to assault me with bath products, I don't smell that bad!" He managed to get out. Her face cracked into a grin, and she threw her towel at his face.

"I'll be the judge of how good you smell, thanks. Since I have to hang around you all the time. You about scared the daylights out of me. What are you doing scoping out the women's bath?" Her towel smelled faintly of some kind of fruit, it was nice. Ron distinctly remembered smelling it on her robes before, but never this strong. He pushed the towel off of his face to rest on his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you about something." Ron said, in the most serious tone he could get out. Hermione smiled encouragingly and nodded. They slipped into the nearest classroom they could find, which didn't take too long. And when they entered Hermione sat down politely in one of the desks and looked expectantly up at him.

"How long have you known?" Ron asked, no point in beating around the bush about it.

"Known about _you_? Well, I suppose since we were eleven when we met on the train…" Ron wrung his hands emphatically.

"Now is not the time for your sense of humor Hermione!" Ron could see her smile broaden.

"And what is it time for exactly? Time for me to reject you, and tell you I think it's time we stop being friends?" Hermione said calmly as she raked through her oddly flat, wet hair with her fingers. Ron's chest constricted.

"Maybe?" He ventured quietly.

"Oh, Ron, grow up. Honestly, I wouldn't do any of those things. Why would you think anything between us would change?" Hermione stopped untangling her hair and got up from her desk to wrap her arms around Ron. He caught another whiff of her strangely fruity smell, and considered the experience to be unusually comforting. Like the way hugging his mother was comforting. When she released him he could see her beaming up at him.

"I'm in love with Harry." He just blurted it out, and he felt lighter after he had said it out loud. Hermione's expression didn't change in the slightest, but she nodded appreciatively.

"Yes, and you should really tell him so." Ron stared at her as though she had asked him to marry Malfoy.

"Excuse me? Are you mental?" Hermione moved back from him, her matter-of-fact expression clearly plastered on her face once more.

"It won't be as disastrous as you might think Ron. I've had a couple talks with him, and I've been doing some research. He seems fairly open to the gay lifestyle, and if nothing else I think he'll at least be understanding of the whole thing." Ron's eyes widened, he wanted desperately to interrupt.

"He even admitted he might have some tendencies towards the male persuasion, and I think it would do you both a favor if you would just get over this dumb fight you both are having and get on with it." Hermione, flushed looked up to Ron's dumbstruck face.

"What do you mean, you've talked with him?" Ron finally asked, sitting himself down on a desktop and crossing his arms.

"Well, he found me in the library doing research on the finer points of the matter, and I just asked him how he felt about people who might be homosexuals. He said he didn't see a problem with it, and that he happened to know a… well, an acquaintance I suppose, from his time with his aunt and uncle. His relatives were less than keen on the subject, and I think because of that Harry might have felt some level of fondness for the boy. He was very receptive to the topic you know. All this silence is ridiculous Ron." Ron huffed.

"That's all you have to go on, and you think he might be gay because of that?" Ron asked incredulously, based on Hermione's track record he actually expected more from her fact finding skills.

"No…I asked him if he had ever thought of being with a man, as in intercourse." Ron looked up sharply at her. "He _blushed _Ron, like an embarrassed little girl, and said he thought about it before. So, I think you should just come right out and say it. You're his best friend and he misses you so much, that I'm sure it's you he's thought of…"

Ron's head was swimming. Harry thinking of him? He had a brief mental image of Harry, flushed, panting, his fingers wrapped around his erection, pulling gently and moaning Ron's name.

"How do you know it's me he thought of? Did you ask who he thought of being with?" Ron asked urgently. Hermione shook her head.

"What if it's not me then? What if it's, Diggory or something?" Hermione looked down her nose at him skeptically.

"And why on Earth would Harry think of Cedric Diggory?"

"Are you serious, Hermione? Why wouldn't he? Cedric's fucking gorgeous. He's built, tan, great at Quidditch (don't tell Fred and George I said that by the way), perfect teeth, perfect arse, probably has a huge co-" Hermione then caused a slight diversion by bursting into laughter. Ron stared at her.

"I'm so sorry Ron, but you make a great gay guy. Can we maybe talk about Temer Moon together sometime?" Ron paused, and realized going on about Diggory probably sounded pretty gay, and his smile began to spread.

"That Ravenclaw bloke? Yeah, I've seen him. He's almost as tall as me, dark hair, easy on the eyes?" Hermione stopped laughing, looking at him in surprise.

"He's a good looking bloke, you like Moon Hermione?" Hermione's cheeks tinted and she nodded slowly. "Well, he's damn good looking. But have you seen him walk? Looks like he's on a runway, he swings his hips a bit. Sometimes I just want to run up behind him and grab his arse as he walks by." Hermione practically crying with mirth hugged Ron around the middle.

"Ron, if I knew this before we would be having hilarious conversations years ago." Ron let go of her and moved back a step.

"Really? You don't think it's weird? Or different at all?" Hermione shook her head.

"Of course not. You're still my best friend. I won't tell Harry a thing but you should really consider ending this fight soon, if you need a little bit more time to figure this whole thing out though, I won't blame you. But I know Harry misses you. You should see how he talks about you now that you're not around." Ron suddenly stopped smiling.

"Why? What has he said?"

"Well after that detention…" Hermione looked at him imploringly. "Well I guess I could tell you about it."

END OF CHAPTER 3

Make sure to review guys. I would love some feedback. Tell me what you'd like to see me do later on, and give me pairing suggestions. I'm open to anything. I just need to know what you people want. GIVE!


	4. Harry Needs Answers

CHAPTER 4 HARRY NEEDS ANSWERS

As Harry burst into the common room Hermione barely had time to look up and mark her place in her book before Harry started ranting, not even waiting for her to ask how his detention had gone. She got about half the words out, granted, but Harry was inconsolable. In recent weeks she had gotten a fair amount out of him, he had at least been able to get a tiny bit better at summoning charms, okay not really. More often than not, however, getting information out of him was difficult. It was his nature to keep all of his emotions bottled up. Hermione couldn't blame him, she never thought the Dursleys were ever in the mood to speak with Harry about his feelings. This night though…

"It was the absolute WORST Hermione. I'm never speaking to him again! I just want to take his head, and-" Harry made a violent move in the air. Hermione scowled.

"Okay, I understand you're upset Harry. What exactly happened with Ron?" Harry had the decency to look apologetic.

"I tried to talk to him-"

"And did you do it the way I said? Or did you berate him for an apology?" Hermione asked calmly. She saw Harry bristle at the words. He looked somewhat guilty.

"Well, he should apologize!" Harry insisted. Hermione nodded slowly.

"Harry, there's no argument here saying Ron isn't acting childish, but like I tried to tell you before, I'm confident there's something more going on here. Something we might not understand quite yet. I've talked with him and-"

"I know. Good intentions, doesn't think I actually put my name in and all that. But what is he upset about then Hermione?!" Hermione sighed, looking up at her best friend glowering at her, it was hard to keep Ron's secrets for him.

"Ron's just going through…an identity crisis right now. He needs some space, but if we try to talk to him CALMLY and rationally I think that-"

"What does that have to do with me? Hermione, I know you know what's going on here. Why can't YOU just tell me? If I understand, it might be easier for me to not think of him as an insufferable git every time I open my mouth." Harry implored her with his eyes. Ron definitely owed her big time.

"Harry, I don't think I'm the right one to tell you." Harry sat staring at her for a moment, then his eyes darkened and he sat back in his chair. Contemplating her words, it seemed. Hermione had rarely seen her friend so pensive. She didn't know if it would be right to interrupt what was going on upstairs. The situation was troubling, she was so sure they would patch things up in the two hour detention pickling rats' brains in the dungeons. After all, when you need to bring two enemies together then you give them a common denominator to hate. It was common military strategy. But apparently in matters of the heart, they didn't always work.

"You know the last person who said that to me?" Harry muttered, jolting Hermione out of her private thoughts.

"Said what? That I don't think I'm the right person to…?" Harry nodded.

"Hagrid." Hermione looked at him inquisitively, but his gaze was firmly fixed on the flames licking the hearth of the common room. "When he told me about my parents. He didn't want to tell me at all, but said I couldn't go off to school not knowing. He said he thought he'd be the wrong person to tell me…what had happened." Hermione had never given thought about how Harry had heard about his own past, of course the Dursley's hadn't told him. How had she never thought of this before?

"Harry…" He looked up at her, and she saw, startled, that there were tears in his eyes. Unbidden he crossed to where she sat and enveloped her in his arms. He had never been this intimate with her before, it was however, not unpleasant. He smelled faintly of formaldehyde or some other embalming liquid, most likely from the preservation of the rats' brains, but he was warm. They sat like that for some time and it almost startled her when he finally spoke.

"I miss him so much, I can't explain it. Every time I see him I just want to… I don't even know." Hermione felt her caged heart beat rapidly in her chest. What did this mean? Perhaps he didn't even realize his own feelings? Maybe a push wouldn't hurt…

"Want to what? It's okay Harry, you can tell me." Hermione felt him draw away from her and look into her eyes with such a sense of longing she felt like she would give him anything to make that look go away.

"I really don't know Hermione. I miss him so much, and when I see him I get this feeling, like I could just give up anything to be with him again." Hermione thought about this for awhile, and landed on what she thought was a good gauge for the situation.

"Harry, remember last year when you and Ron stopped talking to me because of Crookshanks, and the Firebolt?" Harry suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Hermione, I'm really so-" She shook her head hurriedly.

"I don't need an apology Harry, I wanted to ask about something. This feeling when you're apart from Ron… Did you feel the same way when we weren't speaking?" Harry looked surprised at the question, and then confused, and when his face fell Hermione finally thought she had reached some success in her recent conversations with her oblivious friend. "Well?" She asked quietly, not insistently, and when he looked up he had such a look of shame on his face Hermione almost felt bad for making him say it out loud.

"No…" He was so quiet Hermione could barely hear, but she nodded her head in understanding. "Hermione, I'm sorry. It's not that you aren't… I just…" He rambled and stepped away from her, but she grabbed ahold of his arm to make sure he didn't withdraw.

"Harry, I'm not upset. I just wanted to understand something. Can you tell me why you miss Ron more?" Her tone was sincere, with as much warmth as she could instill, knowing she'd never be as close to her friends as they were with each other. Harry stilled for a moment, he almost looked as though he was in physical pain. Several times he made to open his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Finally shaking his head roughly he turned to his friend again.

"There's just something about him.. Something about Ron I can't really explain." Hermione nodded knowingly.

"Harry, do you think… You think maybe you might like Ron as more than a friend?" Harry looked at her, and was it the firelight? Did his cheeks look flushed? He sat down across from her and looked into the flames once again. He bit his bottom lip and when he finally opened his mouth again and looked at Hermione for the last time she placed a finger over his lips. Standing up, she moved around to his chair and gave him another hug to show her support.

"I think I already know Harry, I think it's just you who needs to know the answers now."

RON

Upon hearing the words relayed by Hermione in the empty classroom, Ron silently slid down the wall and pooled on the floor beneath her feet.

"So, will you finally apologize and end this?" Ron nodded numbly from the floor.

END OF CHAPTER 4

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Let me know how you're liking the story, as well as anything you'd like me to do better. I want you all to love me! So I gots to be better! Special thanks to SableUnstable for their feedback, your support is much appreciated! I promise everyone who is following that the next chapter is going to be a bit more hot and heavy if you're into that kind of thing. I'll be sure to plaster warnings all over it if you aren't into that sort of thing, and would prefer to skip it. Thanks to everyone who actually likes reading my dribble!


	5. Nocturnal Desires

WARNING: This chapter will contain graphic sexual scenes and descriptions, the characters will both be male. If you do not like this sort of graphic depiction you may very well back out of this story now and go read something else, maybe this story just isn't for you. SLASH, M/M, SELF PLEASURE, SAD CLIFFHANGER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I KNOW I DON''T OWN HP QUIT REMINDING ME!

Chapter 6: Nocturnal Desires

"Harry, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean everything I said. I know you wouldn't have been daft enough to enter the tournament. The look on your face when your name was called…" Ron looked apologetically towards his friend, seated next to him in the deserted common room. The firelight flickered and made his hair glow like the actual flames. There were flashes of copper when he turned his head, and his bright blue eyes shimmered. His gaze held Harry's attention with their commanding intensity. His hands fiddled in his lap nervously. Harry could see the light freckles dusting the backs of his hands and found the effect tantalizing.

"Ron… I missed you so much. I-" Ron pressed his finger to Harry's lips. His skin was somewhat calloused but smooth, the small action demanded obedience and Harry was mesmerized as Ron worried his bottom lip and turned up in a manner that was clearly devilish in nature.

"Don't talk Harry. Just… let me make it up to you." Before he knew what was happening Ron was looming closer, his light eyelashes fluttered closed and Harry's heart beat rapidly in his chest. When their lips connected it was easy and soft, but the reaction was immediate and almost electric the way his friend devoured him. The advances turned hungry and Harry let him explore, opening his mouth to moan in appreciation. When Ron finally pulled away Harry wanted to beg him to come back, he'd do anything for his affection. He felt his cock awakening in his robes and oddly felt no shame in the matter. Ron looked down appreciatively and slid his hand beneath the fabric. Harry gasped aloud as tender fingers brushed against his clothed erection. Taking this as a good sign Ron unbuttoned his trousers and pushed the fabric out of the way and soon he was feeling Ron's skin on his.

"Yeah, Harry, say my name just like that…" Harry, with a shock, realized he was spouting his best friend's name repeatedly, and loudly. His face felt hot, and the fire was suddenly too warm, the skin on his engorged member was delightfully tight and he could feel it pulsing with his heart as Ron pumped him generously. Harry turned his head and looked into those gorgeous eyes that were boring into him intently, a wicked smile on the redhead's face as though he knew exactly how much he was enjoying himself. Ron leaned forward.

"You better scream my name when you come, Harry." A warm wetness was in his ear, and he suddenly realized it was Ron's tongue, his breath hot and heavy and it was all Harry could hear. He was so close, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back and suddenly the sensation went away.

Harry opened his eyes, it was pitch dark and he could feel his bed beneath him. Where was Ron? That dream had felt so real, and as if to punctuate that thought he felt his erection twitching and brushing up against his tented pajama bottoms. The friction sent a hiss of pleasure up his spine, his heart was still beating and he could feel his member pulsing and twitching in time like a metronome. Even the sinking disappointment of not waking up to Ron pleasuring him wasn't enough to make it diminish. He couldn't keep his thoughts straight, and all he could think about was that dream and Ron. Quickly divesting himself of his bottoms he watched his erection spring up politely as he pulled the sheets down below his knees. Laying back on his pillows again his thoughts sprang to his best friend without hesitation. Ron's lips on his, Ron's palm sliding up and down his manhood. He slicked himself up and pressed his thumb tenderly on the slit eliciting a few drops of his semen he slathered on his length.

Harry jumped, hearing a loud snore coming from his left. Tilting his head to the side he could see the redhead through the part in his four poster curtains. Without question he grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and put them on hurriedly. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see Ron's skin glowing in a thin strip of moonlight from the open window. His blankets were pushed down past his navel and Harry could see the sporadic ginger hairs sprouting in a happy trail up his broad chest. His face was turned towards Harry and he could see his slightly parted lips, and Harry let out a sigh as he thought of those lips wrapped around him; warm, wet, and willing. He moved his hand faster, wondering whether or not Ron had bothered to wear pajama bottoms to bed or not. With how low the blankets were pushed and the view Ron was presenting he was inclined to think not. He never thought of his friend as the kinky bloke who slept in the nude before and he had the strangest urge to pull the blankets off of him and check. He settled instead for Ron's reliable snoring. His furious fingers continued to pleasure himself as he thought about what his friend might look like if he was hard. He had seen Ron naked before, but had never been brave enough to sneak a peek of his genitals in the shower, and he had never gotten the chance to see him erect. Harry vaguely wondered how big he was, what it would be like to feel that cock inside him.

Harry had never tried penetrating himself before, but his imagination carrying him away made him want to try. He experimentally prodded the tip of his finger through the ring of muscle, it was mildly irritating at first but the sensation passed and it just felt different. When wiggling it in a bit further however he realized he was clenching so hard onto his finger his skin was becoming irritated. Knowing that couldn't be right and contenting himself with trying it again later he pulled his finger out and let his backside rest into the mattress again. His member was still insistently hard, even after his failed attempt at fingering himself. Looking over once again at his friend he struck up a rhythm stroking himself and resumed his fantasy of Ron overtop of him. An image of Ron panting above him, his face flushed, sweat dripping from his forehead, his blue eyes glowing, and what Harry imagined to be a thick, swollen, dark rod off flesh repeatedly thrusting into him was just the vision he needed to push him over the edge.

He couldn't help moaning Ron's name when he climaxed, as he thought of his friend's voice whispering to him in his dreams. It was the most powerful orgasm he had ever had, and when he finally came the fluid shot out of him with a force Harry had never seen himself perform. He actually arched his back involuntarily and some of his exertion even hit the lens of his glasses. Filled with the satisfaction of release he sank back to his mattress and using his discarded pajama bottoms he mopped up his mess and quickly cleaned his glasses. As he placed his glasses under his pillow and started to relax he quickly realized something was wrong. His shoulders tensed and he couldn't figure out why he was panicked. It was then he understood, he hadn't heard Ron snore in quite some time. Gingerly pulling his glasses from under his pillow he put them back on to clear his vision of the redhead. He was in the same position, but his mouth was shut tight instead of parted, and he looked too fixed in his position, as though determinedly not moving. And when he looked back to Ron's face he noticed one of his eyelashes twitch and he caught a quick flash of blue before it shut tight again.

Forget the first task, he was going to die of shame and embarrassment right here in the boys dormitory. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest again, and a horrible weight had just dropped in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't even thought about how inappropriate it was to think about his best friend while wanking, or even bothered to consider his sudden desire to be on bottom now that he thought of it. He could feel his cheeks warming with humiliation, but Ron wasn't moving. He was laying quite still, pretending as if he hadn't heard anything at all. If anything, he would expect a row, for Ron to call him a freak, but for Ron not to respond at all was…curious. Maybe Ron enjoyed it? Maybe he was thinking too much of the Ron in the past couple weeks who was angry with him, but what about his friend Ron? What about the ginger haired boy who let a white queen clobber him over the head to prevent Voldemort from getting the sorcerer's stone? Or the Weasley who had accompanied him into Slytherin's own dangerous chamber to rescue his sibling and stop the attacks on innocent muggle born students? What about his best friend who proudly proclaimed that he would rather die than have a suspected murderer hurt Harry? And what about the kinky bastard who wore no clothes to bed? Who listened to their friend's good time, moaning their name for Merlin's sake, and pretended to be asleep? Shouldering his Gryffindor courage he decided to go for it.

"Ron?...Are you awake?" He could see the red haired god from the next bed and saw his eyelids twitch in recognition. He waited a few seconds for a response, and when he got nothing he started to feel nervous.

"Ron, I know you're awake. Can we please talk?" He saw Ron's brow furrow slightly, and after a second he heard a decidedly loud fake sounding snore. Harry's heart dropped like a stone. He turned over and closed his eyes. '_I guess I was wrong'_ and the thought hurt worse than Harry would have cared to admit. He kept trying to go back to sleep, but he couldn't shake the guilty feelings he had; how much of a betrayal was it to think of his friend that way? He was disgusted with himself, and couldn't shake the feeling that maybe what he thought was a spat between them was actually an irrecoverable fight. What if they never made up? Maybe witnessing Harry jerking off was the last awkward straw that broke the hippogriff's back? With a jolt Harry felt something warm and wet trickle down his face. At first he thought he missed some of his own semen that had hit the side of his lenses earlier, but wiping it away he realized it was a tear. He was crying.

Harry didn't often cry, but neither was he opposed to it. Despite the things he went through as a child it was just a learned behavior that stemmed with his time from the Dursley's. Dudley would cry and get anything he wanted, but Harry was often chastised for it and punished. From a very early age he remembered being hit by Dudley, quite hard actually. The first memory he had of crying was when Dudley had given him a rather impressive bruise, and when he was crying after the injury he remembered his Uncle Vernon shaking him and telling him if he didn't stop sobbing he would pummel him twice as hard. Later he threw him in his cupboard and told him crying wasn't allowed. From that moment on, when it became apparent nobody would stop Dudley, Harry started running. Ever since however he had just assumed it a waste of his time to cry. Only occasionally when it became too much did he let it out, and normally it was a torrent of emotion from being locked in for so long. Soon the tears were flowing, and he couldn't stop himself from sniffling. He heard Ron get up from his bed and the shuffling of clothing, and the door to the boy's dormitory shut.

Harry couldn't quite get it out of his head that Ron might not came back, and those unhappy thoughts were the ones that accompanied him to his next dream. Which was definitely not as welcome as the first.


	6. Nothing Happened

**Hey, I really want to thank everyone who's been following and most importantly reviewing. I feel like Ron and Harry don't get the attention they deserve anymore, and I rarely see a Harry/Ron fic anymore. Remember, I take suggestions, prompts, cookies... Just let me know if this is working for you all! I appreciate everything. Just a disclaimer, I don't own HP, but you'd all really like it if I did, right? **

**Chapter 6: Nothing Happened**

"So what did you do?" Ron stopped pacing and looked around at his brother.

"What do you mean, what did I do?" Fred looked up from one of the order forms he had been writing on to look curiously at his brother.

"Well, Ron, you like Harry. And you hear him moaning, and when you wake up you notice he's masturbating and doing a pretty botched job of fingering himself, and he calls out your name…Which I'm assuming is right up there with what you'd like to do to him, right? And you just what? Lay there and pretend to be asleep?" Ron stilled, that's exactly what he had done. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do. What if he had slid out of bed and walked right up to Harry and just jumped him? Since he called Ron's name it would be a safe assumption he wouldn't be too off target, but then again… What would he have done if someone just tried to climb into bed with him in the dead of night when he'd been wanking?

"Yeah! That's exactly what I did. I didn't want him to think I was some lunatic who gets off on his best friend wanking." Ron cried wringing his hands. George snickered from across from Fred, clearing blotches from one of the pieces of parchment.

"But that's exactly what you did though, isn't it?" Ron's ears were burning and he turned away from the twins, berating himself. He had enjoyed watching Harry, and he felt like a sick freak. Once he had realized what was happening he tried willing himself back to sleep, trying to shut out those magnificent noises Harry had been making. Even though he tried, he could feel his own cock hardening against his will, the skin stretching almost painfully. After he had thought Harry had fallen asleep Ron had sneaked downstairs to take care of his problem in the washroom. Even after feeling guilty and horrible it was still Harry's arched back, curled toes, and flushed face he had imagined when he came.

He should have said something when Harry tried talking to him, but what in the worlds do you say to someone after spying on them jerking off? He could only imagine what the response would have been if he'd dared to say 'So watcha thinkin about? Can I help next time?' Maybe Fred and George were right. Maybe he should have just casually walked over to his friend and curled his fingers around that nice thick cock Harry had, nestled against all those glistening black curls he imagined smelled like the Quidditch change rooms after a match…

"Well, good job Ronnie, because now he probably thinks you hate him and that you think he's a freak. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd avoid you now. Whereas before he was just mad at you. Now he's probably mad, upset, and embarrassed." Fred cried blatantly and giving Ron a scowl. Ron put his hands up defensively.

"Look, I didn't want him to think… to think…" Fred shook his head.

"You didn't want him to think that you liked it, because you thought it would look creepy. Have you given a though to how creepy he probably thinks he is, beating the bludger while looking at his supposedly sleeping friend?" Ron's heart sank. If it had been him in that situation, he certainly would have thought so too. How could he have misjudged this situation so severely?

"Merlin! I didn't think of that at the time! I panicked! And he just calmly asked me to talk and I blew it." Ron banged his fist on the table upsetting a bottle of ink.

"Oy! Watch it, mate." George catches the ink bottle but most of it leaked out on the table in the common room. He siphoned the ink while Fred wrangled up the endangered order forms, and turned to look at Ron.

"Besides, Ron. It doesn't sound like you've blown anything to me." Fred stated suggestively. Ron scowled at him.

"Look, it's no use trying to justify it to us, when you should be trying to justify it to Harry. And you better do it soon, before he decides to move on. That is, if he hasn't already." Ron felt his chest ache. What if Harry did move on to a better friend? A lover? Someone who wasn't him? He's the Boy Who Lived, he could probably get anybody he wanted, excluding Malfoy. Hell, maybe even Malfoy if he really wanted to. Ron shuddered at the thought, resolving to find Harry and set the record straight.

Searching for him half the morning turned out to be futile. He wasn't in the Great Hall, he couldn't see him on the grounds, he checked Hagrid's (albeit hurriedly, as he had wanted Ron to stay and see how the skrewts were holding up), and he hadn't been in he boy's dorm when he woke up. Ron, practically crawling back to the portrait hole at that point, was about ready to give up. He was just thinking he'd skip this Hogsmeade trip to take a nap when he saw Hermione ahead of him having just left the common room. He practically tackled her in his haste, grabbing her suddenly by the shoulders.

"I need to find Harry. Please tell me you know where he is." Her eyes were large in shock and they flitted nervously, he supposed he shouldn't have been so rough with her. He let her go and she seemed to relax somewhat.

"He was at breakfast." Hermione supplied dully.

"I checked there! Merlin's cock and balls!" Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Ron! Language, you can't be shouting stuff like that in the halls! What if a first year hears you or something?" Ron ran a hand through his hair.

"Then I'll probably expand their vocabulary by about two words!" He swore he heard someone give a sharp bark of laughter, but nobody else was in the hallway. "Sorry, sorry." He said to Hermione's astonished face.

"I've just been running around all morning like Martin Miggs trying to find him and I haven't found him, and I seriously messed up and I need to talk to him right away." Hermione braced him with her hands.

"You're rambling. What's this about?" Ron desperately wanted to tell her, he really did. It would have made things so much easier, but if Harry hadn't told her at breakfast he probably didn't want her to know. It would be a serious breach of trust to just tell her, not to mention he wasn't sure how she'd react. He was brought up thinking sex and masturbation were a natural part of life and he completely accepted that. It was another thing entirely to tell your friend, your other best friend was masturbating the other night and you just happened to overhear. He shook his head firmly.

"I can't tell you Hermione, I just need to see him."

"Is this about last night?" She asked hesitantly. Ron's mouth dropped open.

"You know?!" Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"Harry might have mentioned a bit at breakfast." Ron sighed in relief.

"Good, I couldn't tell you if I thought he might be embarrassed, but it's okay. You must know what a dolt I was. I couldn't do anything Hermione! I just froze! He was lying there asking me to talk to him, and practically begging me to do something and I thought he was going to think I was some pervert or something. I have to tell him it happened all wrong. I know he's probably avoiding me, but maybe you can talk to him? Is he going to Hogsmeade? I have no chance of finding him here. Can we maybe meet up in the Three Broomsticks? I can try to tell him properly, and maybe you could help? Be there for us, yeah?" Hermione's face went from quizzical, to embarrassed, to a strangely guilty look he didn't understand. Her eyes flashed again as she avoided his eyes.

"Well, I think he wants to stay here. He said something about wanting to work on summoning charms again." Hermione supplied.

"So…library then, maybe? Thanks so much Hermione, I don't tell you enough, but you're a lifesaver." Grabbing her into a quick one armed hug to show his appreciation, he tore away down the staircase again.

And yet, after thoroughly searching the library, and even the charms corridor for good measure, Ron didn't find him. Ron was let out by this time, dragging his feet back to the common room and up to the deserted boy's dorm. Upon collapsing on his bed, he was hit with the suspicion that Hermione had probably lied to him, most likely on Harry's request. He wanted to feel mad about it, but after what he put Harry through last night, he supposed he really couldn't blame Harry for avoiding him. Maybe it would be a better idea to just let him alone? But it was clear Harry missed him, almost as much as he missed Harry. The loneliness of the situation suddenly hit him, and the last place he wanted to be was here, in the boy's dorm, alone. Ron raised himself off of his bed and looked over at Harry's empty bunk. Harry had to come back sometime, but if he was at Hogsmeade he wouldn't be back for several hours. He wanted to be close to Harry, but if Harry wasn't here maybe he could take the next best thing.

Ron gingerly walked towards Harry's bed, half expecting something to stop him. When nothing did he lowered himself onto Harry's mattress, and deciding to be careful about things, pulled the hangings closed. Ron felt Harry's pillow experimentally, pushing his fingers in the material. Deciding it was to his liking he buried his face in the pillow. He couldn't help but let out a small whimper; Harry's smell filled Ron's nostrils. He smelled like wood polish, and something similar to honey. Ron closed his eyes, remembering a time when things weren't so complicated between them. He wasn't quite so sure when they stopped being memories, and began to be dreams.

HARRY'S MORNING

When waking up that morning, Harry couldn't at first remember why his face felt precisely so wet, and then he remembered Ron walking out of the dorm the night before. Harry quickly got up and cleaned his glasses, which he normally was careful not to fall asleep in, and checked Ron's bed. Ron had apparently slipped back in after Harry had drifted off because he was in his bed sleeping. His blankets were pulled up to his chin and his hands were shoved under his pillow, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly open. Harry could hear the distinctive soft rumbling of Ron's snoring from an angle that was clearly better for his breathing. Without wasting any time for Ron to wake up and things to get awkward he dressed at top speed, and went to the common room.

Harry, desperate to avoid Ron, couldn't wait for Hermione to wake up naturally. So when he saw a young girl bounding down from the staircase he accosted the second year and quickly got her to toddle back up the stairs to the fourth year girls rooms and wake her. The second year emerged with a small nod to Harry as she ran past him, clearly afraid of more errands. Less than a quarter of an hour later Hermione emerged fully clothed, although her eyes were somewhat puffy.

"Why did you wake me so early on a Saturday?" Hermione asked clearly agitated, Harry felt somewhat guilty at that and apologized hurriedly.

"Sorry, I just had er- I had a bad night." She raised her eyebrows at him for a moment, and shrugging set off with him out of the portrait hole.

"So, you want to elaborate?" Hermione asked, yawning during their trek down the staircase.

"Something happened….with Ron." Hermione suddenly looked wide awake.

"What did he say?"

"Well, nothing really." Hermione looked confused, then her eyes widened considerably.

"Did he try something on you?" She said all this excitedly, which confused him even more. Finally he had to backtrack a second because nothing she was saying was making any sense, and he couldn't understand why she seemed so happy.

"Okay, backup, what do you think is going on? And why would Ron 'try something' on me? What does that even mean?" Hermione paused at the banister to the staircase in the entrance hall.

"I thought he might have, tried to… Never mind, what happened then?" Harry was definitely struck with the sensation that a crucial piece of understanding was lost on him. He shook his head and hurried into the great hall with Hermione hissing like an angry goose behind him.

"You dragged me out of bed Harry! You could at the very least tell me what's going on." Harry settled at the far end of the Gryffindor table were they were unlikely to be overheard with the few students that were actually at breakfast that early, he could feel his cheeks burning as he tried to find a way to tell his friend what had happened, without actually telling her.

"I tried talking to Ron last night, and he er- pretended to be asleep. Anyway, it was pretty obvious he was awake, and it just made me upset." Harry said evasively pouring himself some pumpkin juice. Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"What?" Harry asked quickly, wondering if something had gave him away.

"That's odd. Because I just talked to Ron the other day. And he said the next time he got the chance he was going to apologize, and try to talk to you about… something important you need to know." Hermione was spooning herself some porridge as she spoke and he suddenly got the feeling he was not the only one hiding information.

"Something important like what?" Harry said quickly. Hermione looked up quietly from her dish, her spoon halfway to her mouth.

"I'll expect you'll know when he decides to tell you." Harry sighed dejectedly.

"What if he might not want to talk to me anymore?" Harry asked tentatively. Hermione was chewing slowly.

"Just because he's upset right now doesn't mean he won't want to speak to you ever again." She responded, appraising Harry as she pushed her mixture around her bowl with her spoon.

"What if, I don't know, something changed last night?" Harry didn't feel remotely hungry, but took a sip of his juice to give himself somewhere else to look, rather than at his friend's face at that moment.

"Harry, trust me, I know it doesn't feel like it now, but precious little could change how Ron feels about you." Harry wasn't sure what it was, but something about the way she had said it made him feel a lot better. Thinking back on the situation, he supposed it could be worse. After all, it could have been Seamus or Dean who overheard him. And then he'd be reading Rita's rendition of his night time fantasies in the prophet next day probably. Although, he still tried to drill into his best female friend that he didn't want to talk to Ron for awhile, and if asked she shouldn't tell him any information about his whereabouts. She was reluctant, but she agreed.

On the way back to the common room Hermione brought up the subject of Hogsmeade again. Harry consented to go, but insisted he was taking his invisibility cloak. Hermione complained about this, but Harry really didn't want to see Ron in Hogsmeade, or anyone else for that matter. When they reached the common room again, Harry was hesitant to go up to the boy's dormitory for fear Ron might be inside and conscious. He hesitantly pushed the door open and noting that the coast was clear, quickly grabbed his cloak from his trunk and hurriedly put it on and slipped back downstairs to join Hermione.

They had barely gone out the portrait hole however, when the very last person Harry wanted to see came barreling down the corridor right for them. When Ron's face lit up and he came darting toward them, Harry had taken three hurried steps backward before realizing that Ron couldn't see him. Harry stood flushed to the wall listening to the exchange. Harry couldn't help laughing at Ron's joke and there was an awkward two seconds were the redhead's eyebrows shot up and he looked confused and Harry panicked. When Hermione had been vey unspecific about what he had told her this morning he was afraid Ron would blurt out his escapade from last night, but was even more on edge when Hermione hesitated before lying about his whereabouts. When Ron scampered off he was expecting the tense conversation that followed.

"Harry, he is wound tighter than my time turner last year! I need to know what happened, now!" Hermione barked looking about five inches to the right of where Harry was actually standing. None the less, Hermione had never been this angry with him before. Normally they got along swimmingly, usually it was her and Ron that would have these kinds of fights. It took a lot of insistence that nothing had happened before she gave up hoping to find out what it was. He felt somewhat guilty, but in the end he decided it was actually a correct explanation of what had happened… Nothing. And that bothered Harry more than the guilt itself. He tried asking Hermione about the cryptic and rushed information Ron had given about whatever Ron had desperately needed to tell him all of a sudden, sure that she would know. He was sure that given her aggravation with the lack of response from him, that she wouldn't give out any information unless he was forthcoming. Which, he stubbornly refused.

Hogsmeade would probably have been more enjoyable if Hermione weren't still slightly agitated with him. She at least spoke to him when she could, but there was a slight edge to everything she said indicating she was less than thrilled about the way the day had started. Harry did however appreciate the fact that nobody was commenting about how he was going to die next weekend or quoting Rita at him wherever they went. Most of the day, he had to admit, was pretty lonely. Though he refused to entertain thoughts about how much better it would be if he and Ron were friends again. It wasn't until Hagrid spoke to him telling him to come down to his cabin that night that Harry gave his conversation with Sirius more thought. He had been almost completely sidetracked by the embarrassing events of last night, that he had almost forgotten about their meeting. After the gamekeeper and Mad Eye had left he reminded Hermione about it and they went over the plan to clear the common room that night, this time adding in the close visit with Hagrid.

Harry didn't know if he could take any more confusion, or rejection, or loneliness, or anything at all at this point. If one more weird or unexplainable thing occurred he couldn't be responsible for his actions. It was at this breaking point he had stepped through the boy's dorm several hours later in his cloak, still invisible, but upon seeing it devoid of human life he took off the cloak and stuffed it in his trunk. Soon he would have to make the journey down to Hagrid's to see exactly why he was summoned there after hours. It was then he noticed his hangings around his four poster were closed. Harry hadn't exactly remembered shutting them, but it wouldn't have been the first time. He made to push the hangings back, and that was when he found his best friend.

Ron was unconscious and lightly snoring, he had some of his red hair falling languidly over his mostly buried face, his head laying gently on Harry's pillow. With a large pang in his chest he realized Ron was cuddling with his spunk ridden flannel bottoms from the night before that he had left at the foot of his bed, and that was what was obstructing his face. And unless Harry was mistaken Ron had shoved his nose into the stain of his release and was breathing heavily, probably for several hours. With a rush of understanding he suddenly felt like he understood… maybe. It didn't explain why he'd been mad at him, or why he hadn't responded last night, but it did explain why he was acting weirdly. The full impact though, was how Ron was snuggling with his, Harry's, disgraced pajama bottoms. It was definitely the weirdest, most confusing thing that had happened to date. Frankly, he couldn't decide which it was, adorable or erotic. Harry's manhood seemed to decide for him though as Ron wiggled comfortably and his robes slid back from his body a few inches, exposing a nice area of stomach and a fine trail of ginger hair leading down below his trousers. Harry gave an unconscious moan of longing and Ron's brow furrowed in response. Then his eyes slowly slid up and connected with Harry's green ones.

There was a long moment where neither of them moved. Then Ron shot up out of bed like a catapult, startling Harry who almost fell over backward.

"Nothing happened!" Ron screeched, bounding from the bed still holding the dirty garment. Harry just stood very still, praying to every deity that Ron didn't notice he was at half mast from staring at him sleeping.

"This isn't what it looked like Harry, honest. I was just waiting for you to get back, and-" Harry put his hands up hurriedly, and tried to calm Ron down. But Ron seemed to take the gesture as an omen of the worst.

"I'm not a pervert!" Ron wailed finally, gesturing with the pajamas still in his hands. It was seeing Ron, in front of him, finally speaking to him, and the hilarity of the situation that caused him to burst out laughing. Harry couldn't exactly help it, you would have laughed too if it had been you. Ron however didn't seem to find it as funny. His ears turned the color of the setting sun and he took off running at the door. Harry's erection took an immediate dive. It took Harry about five seconds to realize exactly what he had done and took off after Ron. He managed to grab him by the wrist as he was halfway down the staircase, Ron tried to jerk him off but Harry refused to be waylaid again. Finally Ron turned around, his eyes bulging.

"It wasn't funny!" Harry forced himself to remain calm. He nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry I laughed, but honestly Ron. If you knew how many opportunities I've had to laugh in the past month you wouldn't blame me." Ron's face seemed to soften at that. Harry took a look around the full common room, staring up at them and tugged insistently at Ron's sleeve, nodding back to the boy's dorm.

For one startled moment Harry thought Ron would refuse, but after a moments hesitation he followed Harry back up the stairs to the dorm room. Harry had the distinct impression that Ron was trying to walk as slowly as possible, as though certain he was walking towards his doom. The unease was palpable, and a small knot was forming in the pit of Harry's stomach. He knew they needed to talk, but he hadn't exactly planned it out this way. He hadn't really planned it out at all. Harry moved into the room and waited for Ron to follow, then he closed the door to face the redhead. He was looking forlornly at his shoes, it reminded Harry forcefully of how Ron looked before Mrs. Weasley would scream at him. Harry shuffled awkwardly.

"You don't have to look like that. I'm not going to bite or anything." Harry stated, Ron looked up as though confused.

"Unless, of course, you want me to." _Why did I just say that? _Harry shook his head quickly.

"I dunno why I said that!"

"Are you making fun of me?" Ron asked, he looked offended. Harry, too stunned to say anything for a moment, just took in Ron's appearance. Harry really wished Ron would put his pajamas down. He quickly shook his head.

"What?! Why would I do that?" Harry asked incredulously. Ron shrugged and sighed, looking somewhat relieved and then apparently noticed he was still holding the flannel. His ears turned red again, and he hesitantly offered it to Harry.

"You can keep them if you want." Harry spouted before he could stop himself. Ron's face turned stony.

"You are making fun of me!" Ron raged, kicking his own trunk until it hit the wall with a loud clunk. Harry winced.

"And how would I make fun of you if I was the one caught masturbating last night?!" Right after Harry said it he wished he hadn't. Ron's eyes widened, and he looked lost. The other gryffindor boy sat down on the trunk he had just kicked, and fiddled with the stained pair of trousers.

"Harry, about that… we should talk. About everything that's happened, but especially that. It's important." Harry suddenly found that anywhere but here would be the best place to be. He could barely hear Ron over the pounding of his own heart beat. He suddenly found himself in front of his friend.

"I can't Ron. Not right now, I just can't." Ron looked stricken, and rose from his seat finally setting the trousers on the trunk.

"Look, Harry, if you just give me a chance-"

"Why didn't you say anything?! You were awake Ron! I know you were, and you just-" Harry gestured wildly with his arms, and Ron grasped his shoulders hard. Harry felt a jolt of guilty pleasure at the contact. He hurriedly pushed the redhead away. Ron stumbled and almost fell backward, but righted himself.

"Don't touch me Ron!" Ron gaped at him, regaining his balance.

"Well you certainly wanted me to touch you last night, didn't you?" Ron screamed back at him. Harry felt as though he'd been slapped in the face.

"YES! I did! Are you happy now?!" Harry was beyond embarrassment, nothing but anger coursed through him now. He wanted to hate Ron, right down to those lovely freckles on his cheeks. Ron was staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

"You did?"

"Were you not expecting that Ron? I was calling your name and looking right at you and… I just thought that when you didn't blow up on me that you might feel the same way. So, I was wrong. Hermione, had me thinking that somehow there might be something. But it's fine if you don't. Really. I have to go." Ron made a move to grab him by the shoulder again, but stopped at the last minute as though he'd been smacked away. Instead calling after him.

"I don't get my say? You're just going to go now? What about what I wanted to tell you?" Harry shook his head.

"We'll have to talk later, I have to go visit Hagrid." Ron wrinkled his brow in confusion.

"This late at night? What for?" Harry shrugged.

"He wouldn't say, he just told me to come down."

"You know, if you're making this up just to avoid me, we don't have to talk right now if you don't want to. I'd much rather you stay here, with me, and us both be mad and not talking, then for you to leave. At least I'd be close to you." Ron said all this very quietly, and Harry had to strain to hear. He felt a twinge of pain, from the loneliness of recent weeks. At least he hadn't been the only one.

"I'm not lying about this Ron. I'll be back later, but could you do me a favor?" Ron looked at him with pleading blue eyes, and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"Anything." His friend's voice was thick, breathless, and unfortunately sexy. Harry swallowed.

"Don't ever say anything that sweet to me again."


	7. Summoning Charms

**I promise the angst is over! I'm not that great at it anyways. But in my opinion, Ron always seems like a tough person to keep down as long as he's well fed. Hope you all enjoy. I worked all day on this story. Make sure to review with any suggestions. I have a special shout out to SableUnstable who's been following this story very enthusiastically. **

**Chapter 7. Summoning Charms**

Ron thought he had been very patient. He knew Harry was upset, and he had a legitimate reason. That didn't mean that Ron didn't have feelings, and tonight many of them were bad. It was with a certain consolation that he thought he couldn't have bungled things more effectively even if he had tried to. Which meant, that now that he had accomplished the very worst maybe he could do a bit better next time.

Ron hadn't known what to do with himself once his friend had left. He hadn't even gotten a word in edge wise to even tell Harry that there was something there, that he did want something more between them. Though, of course, that's probably why he had rushed away so quickly. He thought Ron wouldn't return his feelings. Did Harry think it was an accident he had ended up practically snogging his bedclothes? Ron was probably coming off with several mixed signals by now, and his raven haired angel probably didn't know which way was up. Ron put the pieces together; he had, so far, gotten mad at Harry, witnessed him masturbating and not said anything, and then fallen asleep in his bed with his trousers on his face. No wonder he was hesitant to let Ron actually talk to him. Ron sighed finally and sunk to the floor in front of the common room fire.

Things hadn't gotten that much better when Harry came back from his visit to Hagrid's. Ron had fallen asleep again from stress, although he did stick to his own bed that time. And next time he had woken up it had been much later. It was pitch dark outside and the other boys were asleep. Harry's bed was empty.

Ron had walked out to the common room, to see if he could go down to Hagrid's without being noticed when he heard voices from the top of the landing. He couldn't make out who was speaking, but he thought it unusual there were students up so late. Ron had walked down, and been almost surprised to find Harry. He had hoped, maybe, when his friend returned he might seek him out to talk. Instead, he got his head bitten off when he tried to speak again. Ron knew he shouldn't have let it get to him, but before he could stop himself he was lashing out at Harry. Then Harry had thrown one of those badges at him and trumped upstairs. Ron was still sort of shocked, rolling the badge between his fingers in front of the fire.

Ron found he wasn't tired enough to sleep so soon, even though he was physically exhausted. How could it be this hard to tell someone you love them? It shouldn't be. Really, he just wanted to go about it the right way. When he thought of telling Harry how he felt it was never in a fit of rage. And though he thought about it a lot, it never involved wanking either. Ron always thought it would be something special. He never really thought himself romantic, but he wanted to confess to Harry on the grounds. Maybe walking through the courtyard or off the edge of the forest. They'd take a walk together, and talk. Ron always felt at some point during the walk it would come to him when it was the right time. Of course, the Harry in this fantasy wasn't mad at him. He was being stupid, and just getting Harry more riled up as a result. It was causing nothing but animosity between them.

Ron kept coming back to their argument earlier, it was haunting him. He kept thinking of the look on Harry's face when he told him never to touch him. That had hurt, especially because Harry had confirmed he did actually want to be touched previously. By far the worst, was when Harry had told him not be sweet to him. At first, Ron hadn't even known what he was talking about. Did Harry want him to be mean? But he had said _sweet. _That was one thing Ron had never been accused of being. But he certainly wanted to now.

The redhead made a decision then, that he would… What was the phrase? Drown him with kindness? Ron shook his head, he didn't want another pity party. His mother always told him, if you wanted a nice garden you had to dig your hands in kneazle dung at some point. Ron would get his nice confession at least. Looking down at the badge in his hand he smiled to himself. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday" he had said. Well, he'd certainly wear it now. Pulling out his wand he tapped his wand a few times on the badge, and once he had the badge dismantled and fixed he charmed the pieces back together. Looking at his handiwork fondly he made his way back upstairs. Harry was curled up in his bed asleep. Ron made his way towards his friend, and reached out a hand to lightly brush his cheek.

"I'll show you how much I love you Harry. Whether you want me to or not." Harry remained motionless, and Ron moved to his own bunk. Setting his new accessory on the table, he climbed in his bed. Ron rolled over to face his sleeping friend, and carefully withdrew Harry's flannel pajama bottoms from his pillowcase. They were no longer soiled however, a house elf had undoubtedly done the wash. Never the less, Ron snuggled in for the rest of the night. _He said I could have them, after all…_

Of course to show someone something, you'd have to eventually see them. And Ron couldn't seem to find Harry at all. Sunday once he had woken up, Harry had already left the common room. Once upon a time, Harry would always wake Ron up for breakfast, not anymore apparently. His one consolation was that if he couldn't find him on Sunday, then he definitely couldn't avoid him during classes. Especially on Monday, because they had double divination together. Trelawney's classroom was exceedingly cramped, and they had to sit close together on the poufs to utilize the small tea tables she had set up. Even when they were avoiding each other, they often were forced at the same table.

So that Monday, Ron deliberately arrived early and sat at their usual table waving off the others who offered to sit with him. He knew Harry dreaded Divination and often would arrive just in time before class. True enough, Harry scanned the room and ended up sitting right next to Ron. They were still talking about star and planet alignment, so for the first part of the lecture there wasn't much Ron could do to interact with him. He seemed to be exceptionally preoccupied, and avoided Ron's eye. Once Trelawney had dimmed the lights and was going over the position of Mars in relation to Saturn were they free to talk.

Ron situated his pouf closer to Harry's, and Harry glanced up at him.

"What are you doing?" He hissed. Ron shrugged.

"Getting a better look at Mars." Ron stated simply. Harry rolled his eyes, and a ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

"Not Uranus this time?" Ron grinned and looked slyly over at his friend.

"Well, I can't while you're sitting on it. But I will when you get up." It took a couple of seconds for what he said to sink in, but once it had Harry's cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink that Ron could see himself getting very fond of.

"What are you playing at? Before you were mad, and not talking, and now what?"

"It occurred to me I probably haven't been going about this the right way, and so I'm trying to clear that up." Harry looked at him confused for a time.

"Mr. Potter! If you'd be a dear and move that globe over there by the door? It's getting in the way of my display…" Harry took a sidelong glance at Ron before getting off his pouf and moving the globe so Saturn was clearly visible to the class. While he was up, Ron bent back on his pouf to better appreciate the view of Harry's backside. When Harry sat back down he turned towards Ron, still very pink.

"Could you have been more obvious about that?" He said through gritted teeth.

"Not unless I whistled at you." Ron thought he might have seen a smile at that, but if he had it disappeared too quickly.

"I thought you wanted to talk." Harry stated.

"Well, I do, and we are. But what I want to say has to come at a better time. You have a lot to worry about. I can wait awhile longer." Harry stared at him.

"Why are you being so supportive of me all of a sudden?" Ron frowned.

"Harry, I've never not supported you. Unless you count that time in the Forbidden Forest with the spiders. And I know I haven't been a great friend lately, but I fully intend to make up for that. In the end though, I will always be here for you Harry. Always. If you really need help with something, or you're truly in danger then I'll be here." Harry was glassy eyed and staring at the table so long Ron thought he was purposefully ignoring him. He finally resigned himself to pretending to pay attention to class when Harry responded.

"I thought I told you not to say things like that." Ron looked sideways at him.

"Was that too sweet for you? Too bad, I've decided I like telling you how much I care about you." With that Ron snaked his arm under that table to take Harry's hand in his, but stopped when he felt Harry's hand holding his wand under the table.

"Where you going to jinx me under the table?" Harry looked startled at the touch.

"No, I'm practicing summoning charms under the table." Ron almost thought he was being sarcastic at first but one look at his face told him he was wrong.

"Well congratulations, you've summoned me."


	8. Voyeuristic Hellscape

**It took me awhile, mostly because I got carried away with my theatrics. Let me know if I went overboard or if this is working for you or not. Special shout out to White gardenia petals who is relatively new to the gloriously messed up world of HP fanfiction specifically Harry/Ron. I'm really glad I get to corrupt you! SableUnstable, who has been a really good motivator recently and a diligent reviewer! RaxasaurusRax, I haven't gotten back to you yet, and this might be a bit of a spoiler, but the love story isn't going to be wrapped up quite so easily as you think! Thank you for reviewing, but trust me there is plenty more I plan on putting them through. And those wondering- the M rating is definitely still applicable. So if you're looking for it, it's coming. I'll be sure to plaster warnings on it for everyone looking to avoid that sort of thing also.**

**Sorry I'm babbling- on with the fun. Let me know what you think. **

* * *

**Chapter 8: Voyeuristic Hellscape**

Hermione fell into step with Ron on the way to the temporary stadium erected on the grounds. She looked extremely pale.

"You don't look so good." She looked up at him worriedly.

"Harry looks twice as bad, trust me." Ron frowned.

"I was wondering about how he was holding up." Hermione shook her head.

"Not well, I'm afraid. I'm scared for him." Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Really? I feel like if anyone can take care of themselves, Harry can. I mean, he went up against You-Know-Who in First and Second year, and he killed a fully grown basilisk." Hermione looked affronted.

"Ron, didn't you listen to any of the things I told you about the tournament before? All the deaths? Harry's younger than all the others, he'll be lucky to make it through the tournament." Ron fell silent. He had faith in Harry, if Hermione didn't hold stock in all the things he had done then that was her prerogative. Ron didn't feel much like arguing, but he didn't feel too worried about it. How bad could it be?

They settled into the stands around an enclosure, it was fairly large and resembling an arena. Ron led Hermione over to the twins and they all found seats together.

"I've been waiting for this all week." Fred intoned happily.

"I hope Diggory breaks a foot." George responded nastily. Hermione opened her mouth as though to say something, but Ron broke her off, raising his arm to point to a rather large tent outside of the far end of the stands. They all turned to look. Hermione looked very pale.

"I wonder what they're going to have to face?" Ron asked; the twins started to speculate with themselves but Hermione's head swiveled around so fast Ron thought he heard something crack.

"Harry didn't tell you?!" Her eyes were bulging, and Ron regretfully shook his head. There was a small jealous flame in his stomach at her words. He, Ron, was Harry's best friend, and he had made it very clear he wanted to make up for fighting with his friend. Instead of telling Ron what was coming, he had figured it out, and told Hermione instead. He pushed the feeling down. Ron deserved what he had gotten, he hadn't even apologized to his friend yet, really.

"Why? What is it that they're-?" At the tail end of the sentence there was a loud roar. More than half the crowd screamed, many fell over where they sat. There was instant panic, and as Ron stared into Hermione's eyes it was as though he had siphoned off some of her terror. Fear flooded his chest, and more than anything he wished he had Harry safely in his arms up in the stands. How could he have even thought Harry would enjoy something like this? Ron collapsed into his seat, staring blankly before him.

"I'm such a git." There was murmured assent from the others as they pressed in around him. For the first time in many years, his brothers hugged him. Hermione began to recite the new measures they had instituted this year to ensure the safety of the participants, almost as much for her reassurance as his own. Ron barely heard her, his eyes were fixed on the enclosure and his heart almost stopped when Bagman stood up for attention.

Ron honestly didn't know how he made it through the other's tasks. He kept wondering when Harry was going to have to do this, and how he would stand it when he did. Cedric's was probably the worst, it showed just how dangerous the task was. Cedric had an advantage of going first, but it didn't seem to work in his favor much.

The Hufflepuff was cautious, if nothing else. The moment he was face to face with his opponent he hit the deck. Just flopped down right on his stomach, a couple of people snickered at that. Fred and George seemed to think it was funny until Hermione commented.

"Clever."

"How so?" Fred asked curiously.

"He's making a smaller target of himself." Fred and George limited their comments somewhat as the display went on. The beginning seemed to subdue their cavalier attitude of the task at hand. As Cedric maneuvered around the enclosure towards his dragon, things were kind of slow at first. When he was approaching within ten feet however, he lost his footing and a rock clattered. The short snouted monster raised her menacing head, appraising him as though looking at her next meal. It was instantaneous. Cedric pointed at the rock he had stumbled on. It turned into a rather large Labrador for a rock that small. George noted with some satisfaction that the dog still had grey fur, resembling many of the rocks mimicking the dragon's natural surroundings. The beast showed some interest. She unfurled her wings and cocked her head at the energetic dog. Then, surprisingly the dog let out a hair raising bark in the eerie silence of the stadium.

The Swedish short snout suddenly took an offensive stance, and her front legs pounded into the stone in front of her, and she let out a high pitched shriek. Cedric who had been sidling off to the side since introducing the dog into the fray, suddenly took off like a shot for the eggs. Most likely hoping that the dragon was significantly distracted to not notice. Unfortunately not, she spun around quicker than Ron thought possible for a creature of that size and let out a burst of flame right as Cedric dove for his egg. It missed his actual face, instead sailing over his shoulder.

It did however catch his robes on fire, and the flames licked the skin from his ear and neck. Soon the flames were spreading down his chin and started to set his hair alight as he ran quickly back from the dragon that was making it's way fast toward him. If someone hadn't come to set Diggory to rights half his face would have been burned off. It took several dragon trainers to subdue the enraged mother. Ron saw his brother running around with the rest of them. He never gave a lot of thought to what Charlie did, and the dangers involved. He came to the conclusion his brother was absolutely starkers. The redhead was so tense just watching Cedric and just imagining what Harry had lined up, the twins asked Ron jokingly if he had swallowed a broomstick.

"Just thinking about Harry." George nodded knowingly and looked meaningfully towards Fred. Ron noticed that Fred grasped George's hand rather hard, and their knuckles were white. Hermione put her arm around Ron's shoulders.

"What is Harry going to do?" Ron asked hurriedly. Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she looked worriedly up to him.

"He just said he wanted to be able to summon his broom…" Ron stared at her uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Then he understood. Harry was going to fly. If there was one thing Harry was really good at, it was flying.

Fleur was a bit better. Although, Ron wasn't quite sure what she had tried to do at first. She waved her wand, and started to sing. It was hypnotic and within minutes Ron saw more than one person had their eyes glazed over from the sound. It was impossibly loud, and almost echoing through the stands. The dragon seemed to sway and relax, it's eyes lowering closed. The silver haired beauty started to move hesitantly forward. She had reached the eggs, and when she had managed to get the golden one out from the others she lowered her wand. Then the curled up massive form of green scales let out a rumble. Black smoke issued from it's long thin snout, and small sparks shot out. At first when the smoke cleared it seemed like Fleur would have the best run of things. Then she let out a short scream, her skirt going up in flames, the thin material stretching over her legs underneath the short garment starting to smoke also. It seemed like she might lose her head, but then she had the sense to put it out with a jet of water from her wand. Ron noticed she still had a large burn breaching the expanse of skin over her hip as she stalked off towards the first aid tent erected at the end of the enclosure.

Krum's was the most frightening. After the Chinese Fireball was hit in the eye, it let out a blood curdling roar. It's wings lengthening to their full extent. The coppery glow of it's scales flashed in the sun. Flames curled from it's mouth, and Krum had quickly retrieved the egg (more gracefully than Ron anticipated with his normal gait), but the dragon raged after him. For one moment he though Krum would be set on fire as well, but the beast clearly couldn't see properly. It stomped around, and with one sickening crunch the remaining eggs were leaking their contents across the stone. There was an immediate field invasion as the dragon tamers came back to rein in the rampage. It took a moment for Ron to process that the dragon's young, not even born, was now scattered on the ground.

And Harry was next. Ron had the utmost faith in him, but he was also terrified. This was the worst kind of torture he decided. It reminded Ron of their second year, when twelve year old him paced through a skeleton filled, caved in chamber, trying to break a passage for Harry to return. Ron thought it was horrible then, waiting for his friend to return with nothing but a useless Lockhart babbling nonsense and asking stupid questions. He couldn't hear or see his friend at all, he had no clue what was going on and he felt like he was waiting for hours on end. At one painful moment Ron remembered the thought occurring to him, that he might wait down there for days before realizing that Harry wouldn't be coming back, and neither would his sister…

Ron remembered finally glancing through the sizable hole he had made with the rubble and seeing an exhausted, battered and bruised Harry dragging his pale and sick looking sister down the glistening hall. He carried a long bloodstained, ruby encrusted sword, and was covered in blood. It was black and crusted on his face. It was red and glistening from his hands and glasses, and his robes were heavy and soaked. Ron told himself it was soaked with sweat, but the coppery smell of blood exuded from him like no other permeating scent. At least it hadn't been Harry's blood, but Ron was distraught.

His only thought was that he should have been there with his friend. Ron should have been by his side, another sword in his hand. He should have been exhausted, and covered in blood walking hand in hand with his best friend. And as he saw Harry's dragon being led to her clutch of eggs, that was the only thought in his head. When Harry walked towards his demon, Ron wanted to be at his side. Ron wanted to be that steadfast constant in Harry's life, every single time. The fact that he actually had to watch was somehow worse than ignorance. This whole spectacle seemed sickening suddenly. The blokes who came up with the idea for this tournament were actually sadistic bastards. This was horribly voyeuristic, not necessarily in a sexual context, but in an incredibly personal activity all the same- facing an unknown fear for the first time, everyone else knowing what it was before hand and just waiting around, watching you in mortal peril. There were people who would enjoy this activity, and Ron was disgusted. He thought for a moment he might throw up.

When Harry entered the arena, Ron stopped breathing instantly. Harry was standing stock still, Ron thought he had frozen. Was this how Harry looked when facing You-Know-Who or the basilisk? The events of recent weeks seemed to impress upon him suddenly, and the present situation seemed all too real, like before now it was some nightmare, now it was hell. And if it was bad for himself, he knew it was ten times the intensity for Harry.

"I need to go to him." The thought came out of his mouth before he could stop himself. As though planning to do it all along, he stood up in his seat. Hermione looked up at him petrified, as though she couldn't believe what he had said.

"What?"

"You heard me." She grabbed him by the arm, the twins grabbed him by the shoulders. They were looking at him like he had gone insane. Ron was losing his temper, he jerked away from the twins, and with a sudden rush of sound everyone focused their attention to the sky. With a smile Ron sees the Firebolt rocketing into the arena. Looking at the far end of the stadium he can see Harry, his hand held upward, wand protruding into the air.

Ron was floored, all mad intentions left him as Harry mounted and took off with the skill of a professional. Even after the World Cup, Ron still thinks Harry is the best person who ever handled a broom. As he rose up in the sky, Ron's fear abated. This was Harry's terrain. He lowered himself back down to his seat.

"How can you be smiling?!" Hermione wheezed at him, fingers clutching at her cheeks hard enough to leave marks. Ron didn't realize he had been smiling. He couldn't tear away from his friend as he looped around the Horntails head, the enraged monster blowing flames around him.

"If you don't know by now Hermione, I'll never be able to accurately explain it to you." Ron winced as the beast grazed Harry's arm with it's tail, but if everyone was counting out Harry because of his age they weren't anymore. It was over before Hermione could finish having her cardiac arrest; Harry had baited the dragon into flying in the air with him. And seeing a dragon in flight was possibly the most amazing and terrifying sight Ron had ever beheld. The sight would be ingrained in his memory forever. Harry was hovering feet above the dragon's elongated neck. The head was fervently tossing, and she was showing her impossibly large teeth as she spurted plumes of fire above her. Harry was evading her easily, which only angered her more. Her wings were black, absorbing the sunlight like a dark cloud as she flapped them powerfully to reach her prey, a fly she so desperately wanted to swat. The Horntail was twitching her spiked weapon below her, limbs twisted in a fury. She was larger than anyone could have anticipated. The Swedish Short Snout was a joke compared to her, but Harry was more than a match. This time when he dived she was too heavy to change direction quick enough.

Harry snatched the egg up in his arm quicker than all the others. His jet black hair blew furiously around his face, robes billowing behind him. And he was the only one who ended his task without the tamers to assist, and no burns to contend with. Ron was screaming himself hoarse with approval, Hermione looking stunned next to him. He felt her tugging on his sleeve and he looked over.

"How did you know he would be okay?" Hermione asked. Ron smiled.

"Because he's Harry fucking Potter, Hermione." If she thought his answer was insufficient, she didn't let it show. She chuckled through drying tears, pressing her face into his shirt.

"He's my Harry." Ron whispered as he wrapped his arms around her protectively, leading her swiftly to the exit.

They had a friend to congratulate.


	9. Tuesdays With Ron

**Another double upload! Don't you just love snow days? Let me know how you like it. Especially the new element I added. Hopefully this appeases RaxasaurusRax! Told you it wasn't over. It's going to get smuttier from here on out though... **

**WARNING: There is physical contact in this chapter. It's not as dirty as it could be, but if you aren't into guys kissing...**

**WAIT! If you aren't into guys kissing, why are you reading something I wrote? That's practically all I write about! Don't say I didn't warn you!**

**Chapter 9: Tuesdays With Ron**

Ron knew he couldn't erase the fight they had. He knew he needed- no, wanted to apologize. He opened his mouth, wanting to say everything all at once…

"It's okay. Forget it." Ron looked up at Harry uncertainly. There was a broad grin telling Ron all was well.

"No, I shouldn't've-"

"Forget it!" Ron would've been taken back, but Harry was smiling. That was all he cared about. Ron heard a sniff behind him, and looking around he saw Hermione with tears streaming down her face.

"You two are so stupid!" She stamped her foot, running out of the tent. Ron's heart did flip-flops in his rib cage. Before he could stop himself he had Harry pressed firmly to his chest. He felt Harry's arms rest on his lower back for a moment, but then he started to wriggle against him. Ron didn't want to let this feeling go, so he squeezed him gently. Harry went still for a breath more, but the redhead could feel him stiffen.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, and that's precisely why you should stop." Ron pulled curiously away. He knew not everything was rectified, there were many words unspoken between them. Ron hoped to clear that up soon enough.

"Well, they'll be putting up your scores, c'mon…" He took Harry's hand, feeling the fingers hesitate slightly in his grasp. Ron tried to tell Harry what a good job he had done, but the phrase "good job" didn't even begin to describe what he had witnessed. He went on about the scores, and the other contestants in more detail. When Bagman meant to gather the others in the champions tent, Ron told Harry he would be outside. The ginger haired boy decided he would go ahead and tell his friend how he felt. What if something happened to Harry and he never got the chance? The student had witnessed a powerful display of Godric Gryffindor's legendary courage today, and he wanted to gather up the same courage to merit his own title as a fellow housemate sworn to his hero's characteristic distinctions. Harry exited the tent, carrying his new possession, the golden egg.

"Hey, do you maybe want to take a walk with me?" Ron asked hurriedly. Harry looked at him skeptically.

"I thought we might talk…" Harry's face was set. Slowly he nodded. They set off towards the forest, and most of the students were walking back up to the castle. Just to be safe, Ron led them down the west side of the forest, away from Hagrid's hut and the Beauxbaton's carriage, he didn't want to be bothered by anyone during their conversation.

Despite his efforts, the first several minutes they were bombarded by students anyway. There was Cedric who grabbed Harry's arm as they were leaving the enclosure, Ron felt a strange jolt to knock his hand away. He congratulated Harry, and his friend took it in stride. Then there was Lee Jordan who came over to rave about Harry's performance and let them know that Fred and George were knicking food for a party. Hermione caught up with them, and offered to take Harry's egg back to the dormitory for him, he consented. Then a flush of individuals congratulating him, but the visitors dissipated as they walked further and further from the enclosure. They sank into a steady silence, broken only by the snaps of twigs and the rustle of grass.

The air was cold, and the temperature was dropping slowly. It was a little before dusk and the sky was an inviting russet orange glow on the horizon, with scattered cloud cover. Ron couldn't think of a better time to tell Harry how much he cared about him. He reached for Harry's hand, and upon enclosing it in his own met no resistance. Although, his friend looked curiously up at him, and when he met his eyes and didn't say anything the bespectacled boy jiggled his hand around. It wasn't an attempt for release, but merely an unspoken question. Ron still couldn't speak, he felt his mouth was dry, but this was his Harry and he had put this off for too long.

"You wanted to talk…?" Ron nodded, and looked over at him. Harry was smiling slyly.

"Oh, see, I was confused about that. Given the lack of words coming out of your mouth." Ron snorted, his smile spreading. He stopped walking, and paused near an opening of trees that featured the glow of the setting sun on the edge of the glassy lake. The effect was a resultant shine off the water, that flashed magnificently off Harry's glasses.

"I wanted to talk to you, about lately." Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I have a couple of questions I'd like answered." Harry said seriously, Ron raised his eyebrows indicating for him to go on.

"Why were you mad at me in the first place? Hermione said you didn't really think someone put my name in the goblet, and you even said back there in the tent that you thought…" Harry shook his head and looked down at their entwined hands.

"I was jealous." Harry's head snapped up immediately to look at him.

"I can't control that everything happens to me, Ron!" Ron raised a hand, and Harry fell silent.

"I didn't say I was jealous of you did I?" Harry gaped at him, then wrung his hands letting go of Ron's grasp.

"What are you even talking about?!" Harry put a hand to his temple and paced towards the tree line.

"I was jealous of everyone else." His friend turned to face him, looking completely bewildered.

"I was jealous I have to share you with everyone, that I couldn't just have you to myself. There's always some girl wanting to go to Hogsmeade with you, or simpering after you in corridors. Hoping famous Harry Potter is going to notice them, and I'm always afraid that one day you might. One day, you'll realize that you don't need Ron anymore." Harry's face was almost comical as it changed from bewildered to aghast, rolling his eyes, his mouth wide open in amazement.

"Ron, how could you ever-?"

"Let me finish, Harry! It'll be easier if I just rip it all out in one go, and now that I've started it's a lot easier to keep going." Harry didn't argue, and fell silent, leaning against a large tree facing the reflective lake.

"I'm afraid I'm not good enough to have you as a friend, you're the only one who ever paid any attention to me. I'm afraid that I'll lose my best friend, when you find a more suitable candidate than me. This seemed like the nail in the metaphorical coffin for us. The Boy Who Lived AND Triwizard Champion? Who would want to be my friend? Cedric Diggory could be your friend, or whoever…" Harry shuffled uncomfortably against the tree.

"I don't want just anyone to be my friend! I want you. And like I said, Ron, I can't just stop having things happen to me! Don't you think I would love-"

"I'm not blaming you Harry! I'm explaining why I wasn't speaking to you. I wasn't mad at you at all, it just…sort of… came out that way. I was never angry at you, I was upset about the circumstances. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Harry's shoulders sagged against the tree.

"I told you I don't need your apology." Ron moved towards Harry.

"Thank Merlin for that." Harry sniffed in amusement. They both stood in silence for awhile. They both knew the next topic of discussion was coming, it was rippling up to the surface like the giant squid's tentacles over the surface of the water. After what seemed like ages, Harry spoke again.

"Why didn't you say anything, that night?" Ron looked over at his friend, who was giving him a piercing stare.

"This is going to sound even more stupid." Ron warned him. Harry laughed.

"Oh, how I wish I could believe that."

"I didn't want you to think I was a pervert." Harry smiled in silent laughter, and it spread all the way to his eyes. Soon Ron felt his shoulders shaking and they were both doubled up on each other laughing uproariously. For a long time they couldn't stop, until finally Harry recovered enough to spit out, "Yeah, good thing. Because I can't stand perverts. Especially ones who look right into their friend's open eyes while coming in their hand. Definitely anti-pervert." Ron felt his chest tighten at the joke, it was good Harry wasn't as embarrassed about it.

"Were you really thinking of me?" He blurted it out without thinking, and suddenly Harry had stopped laughing. He wasn't frowning, but he had definitely become subdued.

"Yeah, I told you that the other day. Did you not believe me?"

"I thought maybe you just said it out of anger, you might not have been serious." Harry shook his head hurriedly.

"I called out your name, Ron."

"Yeah, and as sexy as that was, you could have just said it because you realized I was awake." Harry was wearing a peculiar expression, like he kind of wanted to slap Ron in the face or kiss him. Either way, Ron couldn't get over the spark he noticed behind the lenses. He desperately wanted to remove those glasses to get a better look.

"You think I'm sexy." It was a statement, not a question. Ron closed the distance between them and pushed Harry up against a nearby oak. Harry's eyes were huge, and his brows were practically up in his hair line, but Ron couldn't bring himself to care.

"I love you, Harry." His friend opened his mouth quickly to respond, but Ron brought their lips together instead. It wasn't chaste, it wasn't even on target really. Harry's mouth had been open, and Ron locked partially on his top lip as Harry tried to jerk his head back. The ginger haired boy took advantage of his surprise and slipped his tongue in to taste his friend. Ron couldn't think of how to describe it, he just tasted like Harry. He was wet, and his lips were warm and willing, and Ron hoped every bit of him tasted as good as this part. He raised his hand, grasping Harry's jaw, forcing him to turn into the embrace. Harry's tongue pushed forcefully against him, as though to refuse entry, but Harry's body put up no resistance. It was almost on instinct, every nerve and muscle in Harry's body seem to melt into him, and Ron couldn't be more appreciative. The pinned boy responded generously by turning his head to the side, and they were soon so effectively pressed up against each other Ron couldn't think how he had gone the entire fourteen years of his life without this simple pleasure. When Harry's tongue entered his mouth, Ron hollowed his cheeks drawing in Harry tightly, laving his muscle tenderly around his friend's.

Before they broke apart Ron nibbled on his bottom lip affectionately. Harry's eyes were closed and he let out the most amazing groan of pleasure against him, turning his head to the side to rest against the rough bark of the tree. Ron could feel it go straight to his groin. The taller boy let his hand wander down the skin of Harry's neck, and pressed his mouth to Harry's ear, sucking in his earlobe and breathing in his scent. He smelled wild; a mix of sweat, adrenaline, and something akin to Quidditch leathers. When Harry made another moan Ron wrapped a hand in his strangely soft hair, and pressed his lips to the shell of his ear.

"Yeah, make some noise for me Harry, you sound so good." Harry's eyes shot open, and his hands which were hanging at his sides, almost without a thought as to what they were supposed to be doing, suddenly sprang into motion. Next moment, Ron was pushed away from the tree, a flushed Harry pushing several spaces between them.

"We can't, Ron." Ron shook his head to clear away the fog, the abrupt change of things impressing upon him suddenly.

"What? Why not? You seemed to be okay with it… Did I do something wrong?" Harry shook his head.

"I'm very confused. Are you having me on?" Ron smiled slowly, moving towards Harry again. The smaller boy raised his hands defensively, and one look at his face told Ron this wasn't a joke. His heart slipped into his stomach. How could this be happening?

"I don't understand the problem. You just admitted to liking me, I just confessed that I loved you… and you're pushing me away?" Ron tried to keep his voice level, he wasn't angry. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at Harry any more, but he was feeling numbness spread in his fingertips.

"Don't you get it Ron? You just confessed your love to me? You're fourteen! And you stated yourself that I'm the only one who pays attention to you! Maybe, you don't actually feel anything for me at all. Maybe, it's just projection…" Harry's eyes were soft, and Ron knew somehow he didn't want to offend him.

"Harry, I know how old I am. And you should know more than anyone that age doesn't matter. We've done things most grown adults haven't, and wouldn't. Every time I risked my life for you, I meant it. Every time I followed you into certain destruction, I wanted to be by your side. Today, when you got past the Horntail, I wasn't worried you wouldn't make it. All I kept thinking was how much I wanted to be there to help you through it." Harry's eyes widened, and when Ron stepped towards him again he didn't back away. Ron took his hand in his.

"When I stood in front of Sirius last year and I told him that to get to you he'd have to kill me first, I meant every word of that. Every mental thing we've ever done I'd do it again in a heart beat for you. Even the spiders, Harry." He lifted Harry's hand to his chest to grip his robes.

"And after everything we've done, if it was just another friend I wanted, I think standing up to a professed mass murder, breaking into ancient chambers and spider dens, and facing three headed dogs are a bit far to go for friendly affirmations. Aren't they?" Harry gulped.

"Ron, m-maybe we just need to think about this." Ron shook his head, and pulled the edge of his robes away from his chest revealing the badge pinned to the fabric. With the robes turned in, nobody would be able to see the crimson words gleaming on his chest.

I LOVE HARRY POTTER

Ron saw the glow rebound off the lenses, and Harry's eyes widen as he looked up at him.

"Nobody's ever told me they loved me." The statement sent Ron's world tumbling as he let that realization kick in. Ron had always had a family, that even with it's problems and quarrels, was very close. They said they loved each other every day. Ron's parents had told him, every day. Harry had not only never had anyone romantically tell him they loved him, but literally never told him they loved him. Ever. Just the thought made Ron want to make up for every missed gesture, every loving embrace, every kiss on the forehead…

"Nobody's ever kissed me before. That was my first kiss. Not just on the lips. My first ever. Nobody's held me like that, or touched me…" Each word he was saying was like a blow to the head, the epiphany of what he'd just given Harry crashing over him like torrential waves. This had been much more than just teenage romantic fumbling, and Ron was starting to understand why Harry was so bent out of shape.

"I thought I asked you not to say anything sweet." That last statement was the last piece to the puzzle. Harry wasn't worried about how Ron actually felt, he was confused about himself.

"This isn't about me is it? You don't doubt my feelings at all, do you?" Ron was stunned at how level his voice was, he was expecting his voice to crack. They were still standing close together, the badge on Ron's chest neatly exposed. Harry touched his fingers to it gingerly.

"No, I suppose it isn't. I don't…" He looked up at Ron apologetically. "I just don't know what to think. I've never felt anything like this before, I just need to sort out what this means. This isn't rejection, really, it isn't." Ron nodded his head. Harry was looking at him fearfully, as though expecting him to blow up at the slightest provocation.

"I'm not upset." Harry looked unconvinced. "No! Really, I'm not. All this makes perfect sense. Besides, I'm not here to force you into a relationship. I just wanted to come clean, and lay everything on the table. I'll still love you even if you tell me you never want to see me again, Harry." His friend looked stricken at the thought.

"That's what love is about. I want to make you happy, and I want you to know what you want. Even if it means I can't give it to you. And if you want me to leave you alone for awhile-" Harry tightened his grip on Ron's robes, his eyes wide.

"No, please don't stop talking to me again. I can't deal with it." Ron's heart sped up, he licked his lips which were fast becoming chapped in the cool air.

"What would you like me to do?" Ron asked. "What can I give you?" Harry pressed his face into Ron's chest, and the redhead couldn't help but sigh and press his friend in closer. His body showed no signs of dissent.

"Be my friend." Ron nodded, thinking thoroughly about everything the raven haired boy had told him.

"I'll do you one better." Harry looked up curiously from his chest. Bugger if Ron knew how Harry could come off as so self assured in front of a dragon, but looked so lost at the slightest sign of romantic affection. The look on his face looked more like the clueless, shy eleven year old boy he met on the train rather than the confident fourteen year old Harry from an hour ago who had stunned everyone with his aerial calisthenics.

"I'll be your best friend every day of the week, except on Tuesdays." Harry furrowed his brows together worriedly.

"Every day I'll be the same old Ron from the past few years who sat on his feelings. On Tuesdays, I'll show you what it would be like to be my lover." Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"Then, you can get a taste of both. Maybe, that will help sort out how you feel." Harry was mouthing at him wordlessly. He reached up a tentative hand and let it brush against Ron's cheek.

"Today is Tuesday." Harry intoned placidly. Ron nodded, moved his head to the side and planted a kiss against the palm of the hand that touched him.

"Today is Tuesday, and I love you Harry."


	10. A Passionate Knight

**Hey ho! Sorry about the absence for a bit, work got EXHAUSTING. My week has been plagued by irresponsible roommates and little old ladies who should not be issued credit cards. Hope you all like this chapter though! Some more dirty stuff coming up soon, although the fate of our boys now rests in their own hands. This is turning into a sort of symbol for a failed romance I once had, and what would have become if I had been a bit more understanding and a bit stronger. I've been pouring my heart into this story guys, so hopefully you'll all keep reading and you like, review, favorite, or pm me about ****this train wreck I'm writing. I don't own HP, but you all can guess how it would have ended up if I wrote it though! Thanks to everyone leaving feedback, you all are the ones responsible for my updates. I love you all, and I hope life has many cupcakes in store for you.**

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**Chapter 10: A Passionate Knight**

Harry couldn't wait for Tuesday. Although, he wasn't sure if it was anticipation or curiosity. He was pleased him and Ron were friends again, and the whole rest of the week went completely back to normal. Him and Ron goofing off, getting on Hermione's nerves while she was trying to study, playing chess and exploding snap… It was fun, and Harry felt as though he should be satisfied with that. He was satisfied. Really. But then again, he had never felt anything like what Ron had given him after the third task. He momentarily had felt free from all the obligations and expectations the wizarding world seemed to hold for him. Free, to be vulnerable, even for just a moment. Harry had never had someone that close to him before, and he wondered vaguely if it was just the fact of having someone in such close proximity, or if it was because it happened to be his best friend.

He was intensely curious about sex. Who wouldn't be at the age of fourteen? But when he pictured having sex in his mind it was always extremely impersonal. The most personal act he'd thought of doing was kissing, and even then as he thought back- the only person he ever fantasized about kissing was Ron. And the ginger haired boy had certainly made that a memorable experience for him.

It had been nothing like what he had imagined. He doubted anything ever was, really. Sex was probably a completely different experience from his daydreams, but it wasn't bad. In fact, what the experience lacked in imagined mysticism it made up for with raw intensity. And if Harry could choose a word to describe his friend at that moment, that's the word he would have chosen. Intense. It was clumsy at first, though he suspected that was as much his fault as it was Ron's. His friend had probably been extremely nervous, he knew he, himself, had been, given the conversation leading up to that point. Harry was at least sure of how Ron had felt by that time, so it wasn't like he had been stewing over if they were going to end their friendship. He knew Ron was at least attracted to him, and that Harry understood on a base animalistic level, but he didn't know about the emotions involved. He didn't know Ron was in love with him.

Harry didn't exactly know what to do about that, he was sure he loved Ron as a friend. He had certainly entertained the idea of them being together physically, but he didn't exactly know if his feelings could be labelled as _romantic. _In a way, he always thought of love as something that he would never have. Sort of how he thought of parents, he'd have parental figures in his life but never his mum and dad. The real reason Harry thought he might be keeping Ron at arms length was because he wanted to make sure of what he was actually feeling. He wanted to give love because he did genuinely love the person, and not just loving the fact that they loved him. In the end, he was concerned, because he didn't really know specifically what that felt like. Was what he felt for Ron last Tuesday real, in a romantic sense? He needed to be sure before he hurt his best friend.

That being said, he desperately wanted Ron to kiss him again. Would it feel the same the second time around? Harry had been thinking about his first kiss a lot. Once Ron had actually managed to get his rhythm it had been magnificent. For awhile he had forgotten to breathe, he was extremely conscious that he hadn't polished his teeth since that morning, and that he hadn't had a chance to change and probably reeked of sweat, but Ron had seemed not to care. Harry could feel his breathe on his skin, the taste of his friend in his mouth. When Ron had sucked on his tongue he'd felt like he'd almost pass out. He kept wondering what it would feel like to have Ron's mouth hollow out on his cock like that. He'd been wondering about it so much, he'd become painfully hard in the worst possible places. Like, History of Magic for instance. He was always afraid someone might see and think he got turned on by goblin rebellions or something.

So it was with great trepidation and anticipation that he awoke much earlier than he normally would have on the following Tuesday. Looking towards Ron's bed, he noticed with some disdain that the hangings were closed. Lately, they always seemed to be closed. Harry kept wondering if it was because of what had happened when Ron had caught him, but the other guys were always around when they were in the dormitory and when they were awake he'd never been able to ask Ron about it. Even if they were alone, he always wondered how he would ask even if given the opportunity. Somehow the thought made him seem, needy. So he pushed that down.

Instead, he rose from his bunk. Thinking he'd pass the time until breakfast, in the common room. After putting on his robes, he made it half way to the door before doubling back. He could use the opportunity to get some of his homework done, and wouldn't Hermione be proud? He saw the golden egg in a corner of his trunk; but there was no way he could try to figure out the clue now. All he'd accomplish was waking half the castle. He grabbed his potions essay and a spare quill, bustling out the door before he could think of something better to do.

The bespectacled, sexually frustrated boy had gotten about two sentences added to his essay before falling back into thoughts about Ron. He was just about to give in to temptation and go upstairs and rip back the curtains to the redhead's four poster when he heard a voice that made him jump.

"What are you doing up so early?!" He turned quickly and found himself face to face with Hermione, leaning over the banister to the staircase.

"Working on homework." He replied simply, and she smirked.

"Is that some sort of joke?" Hermione made her way down the steps to join him.

"Why are you up so early then?" Her smile faltered.

"I was just going to…to the library." She replied lamely.

"What? This early?" He replied mimicking her chiding tone. She smiled at him.

"Fine, I won't ask what you're doing if you don't ask what I'm doing." He shook his head.

"No, really. I'm working." He turned towards his parchment, quill bent. Yet, he couldn't remember what he'd been writing about. Hermione snatched the parchment from under him.

"Hey!" Hermione frowned looking at the paper, then smirked up at him.

"Something on your mind, Harry?" Harry cocked his head.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because nothing you just wrote makes any sense for the common poisons we've been working on in class. In fact, I'm not even sure you're working on an antidote here." Harry cursed and snatched the parchment back, hurriedly scribbling out his incorrect statements. At this rate, Snape might actually succeed in poisoning him. Forget Kakaroff, he'd just die in class. Hermione made a noise above him, and he looked up to meet her gaze again.

"You want to talk about it?" Harry sighed, putting his quill back in the ink well.

"There's not really anything to talk about." Hermione nodded slowly, and worried her bottom lip. Finally, she sat next to him on the comfortable couch.

"Harry, you've always had a bad habit of hiding whatever it is that's bothering you," Hermione held up her hand as though prepared for his interjection the moment he opened his mouth, "and you should know that I'm always prepared to listen to you. No matter what the problem is. You've been rather off lately, I'm just offering to help. Now that the offer is on the table, I won't bother you anymore about it. I'd just like the opportunity." Hermione smiled warmly, and Harry felt the tightness in his shoulders let up. Would Hermione really understand? For a while now Harry had wondered if his bushy haired friend had feelings for Ron. She'd have to find out about it eventually though right? Besides, it wasn't as if he'd stolen him from her, Ron had came on to him.

"It's Ron." Hermione cocked her head to the side in interest.

"You've been getting along, is there something wrong?" Harry shook his head, and then paused.

"Well, it's either really right, or really wrong and I haven't figured out which yet." Harry looked to his friend nervously, but Hermione's face looked decidedly neutral. Harry chose to interpret that as a good sign.

"Ron told me after the first task that he was in love with me." Harry expected a lot of things; shock, laughter, anger… but what he didn't expect was an exasperated sigh.

"Thank MERLIN! Really, I've been telling him to get a move on for ages." Harry looked at her stunned. Hermione definitely didn't look angry.

"Wha- what do you mean?"

"I mean, I've been telling him since right after the goblet of fire to tell you how he felt." Harry gaped at her.

"You knew this whole time and didn't say anything?!" Suddenly he felt kind of angry. Hermione seemed to sense this, because her smile faltered.

"Harry, would you have preferred to hear it from him or would you have rather I spilled the beans for him?" Harry opened his mouth to say he would have liked to have known sooner so that they wouldn't have fought for over a month. Then the image of Ron pressed against him last Tuesday flooded his mind and he stopped.

"See?" He looked up, and his bushy haired friend smiled widely again. He narrowed his eyes curiously.

"You looked like you were remembering something pleasant." Hermione stated simply.

"I did?" She nodded enthusiastically.

"So what did you say?" Hermione asked quickly. Harry felt his heart slide through his ribcage.

"I told him I needed time to figure out what I wanted." Hermione's smile slowly started to slip as though she had suffered a great disappointment.

"Oh…" There was a very uncomfortable silence, and Harry had time to think vaguely that Ron had taken the news better than Hermione had. That was definitely a first. Then Harry thought more about his encounter with Ron. Had he been mistaken? Maybe Ron had taken it a lot worse then he had originally thought. What if Ron was actually heartbroken that Harry hadn't reacted immediately to his feelings and was hiding it for the sake of their friendship?

"Do.. Do you think I may have hurt him?" Harry asked quietly. Hermione worried her bottom lip again.

"How did he react at the time?" Harry laughed lightly and Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"He actually took it really well. Said I could take all the time I wanted to figure it out, and that he'd remind me every Tuesday how much he loves me. That every other day we would still be best friends. He seemed so confident, you know, when he said it. Not like how he normally is, he looked like he does when he's playing chess. He gets the same look on his face. There's something up with him lately, he's changing…or something." Hermione looked thoughtful for some time and they sat in comfortable silence.

"Well, Ron's always been passionate about chess. Maybe, he's just found something else he's equally passionate about." Harry thought about when they were in first year, and Ron had been his knight on McGonagall's giant chess set. The determined first year boy had let himself get struck by the white queen in order to get Harry closer to Voldemort. Although much younger at that time, Harry thought of his ruthless determination. Perhaps this was something about Ron that he had yet to see.

Harry decided he'd definitely like to see more.

"So…" Hermione spoke, jolting Harry from his thoughts. He looked up at her, and a smile shone, once again, on her face.

"Today is Tuesday."

As though he needed reminding.


	11. A Passionate Night

**Here's the taste of the smuttiness about to ensue. A warning to all those not interested, this whole chapter is almost entirely useless to you! Hopefully you all enjoy it, and more is definitely on the way. Thanks to everyone reviewing and continuing to follow the story. I really appreciate it, and make sure to leave feedback! It helps me keep writing. **

**I just got a message from SableUnstable, who is definitely awesome in every way, and she let me know that last night when I decided to be SUPER CLEVER and upload this chapter at four in the morning that I accidentally hit 'copy' twice in doc manager. So I posted the chapter twice. Anyone who was confused about this, I'm sorry, and I hope it won't deter you from reading again. I normally try not to make careless mistakes like that one. Think of it this way: I was so determined to get you lovely people another update before having to go back to work today that I deprived myself of valuable sleep I needed for basic motor skills, because I care about you guys soooooo much! I hope you enjoy the chapter. Anybody who caught my mistake besides Unstable - shame on you for not telling me!**

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**Chapter 11: A Passionate Night**

Harry was kind of let down. He had been waiting for Tuesday all week, and now that it was almost over he was wondering if Ron had changed his mind about showing him how he felt. Ron hadn't done anything more than friendly all day. There was one point where Ron had touched his hand under the table at breakfast, and he had caught his friend gazing at him a bit too long at some moments. Yet, nothing really out of the ordinary had occurred. He felt pretty cheated, and he was losing patience with the ginger haired boy.

"Are you alright, mate?" Harry looked over at his best friend, sitting next to him in the Great Hall. For once, his mouth not full to bursting.

"Yeah, why?" He felt rather than saw Ron withdraw from him at his words. Had he sounded bitter?

"You just look a little miffed is all." Ron said meekly. Harry tried to look apologetic.

"Nah, I'm alright." He saw Ron nod, and take the smallest of glances at the rest of his body before turning back to his dessert.

"Isn't treacle tart your favorite?" Ron asked, frowning at his virtually untouched plate. Harry looked down wordlessly and nodded. His friend without waiting for permission scooped up his abandoned spoon and stole a bite of the pastry from his plate. Harry looked up at him as he watched Ron swirl his tongue around the silver utensil, gathering up all the golden syrup in two swift motions.

"Ron! Can't you stick to stuffing your face with your own food? Leave Harry's alone!" Ron leaned forward, the better to see Hermione on the other side of Harry.

"He doesn't mind! Do you Harry?" Harry didn't think he could answer if he tried. He was fixated on a drizzle of honeyed syrup that was still lingering on the edge of Ron's lips.

"Harry?" Before stopping himself he reached up and ran his index finger across the skin of the taller boy's mouth. Ron's eyes widened, and when Harry went to withdraw his hand Ron caught him by the wrist. He jerked Harry's arm forward and took Harry's digit quickly in his mouth, and with languid strokes of his tongue sucked it clean of the remains of the dessert. Harry must have whimpered, or something equally embarrassing because Ron suddenly went red about the ears and let go of his arm. A moment passed between them, but as his friend quickly flashed his eyes around the table Harry remembered where they were.

Hermione kept eating as though she had noticed nothing. Looking across the table Harry caught Seamus's eye, he looked for a moment as though both his eyebrows had receded into his hairline, but after a second he closed his mouth, shrugged, and went back to shoveling apple pie down his gullet as quickly as possible. Nobody else seemed to have noticed, but Harry's heart was still hammering.

That was the closest he had gotten to Ron all day, and he quickly realized that it had easily been the best part of his day as well. He had spent all day waiting for Ron to do something, say anything, and it had not happened. Not until he had instigated it. Had Ron lost that confidence he had displayed last week? Harry was rather sorry to see it go if it had. He decided he liked the Ron that made him feel like any other student. He wasn't famous Harry Potter, he was just a fourteen year old boy experimenting with his sexuality. He liked the Ron that made him feel…. Feel what?

"Harry, are you going to sit here all night?" He jumped, looking around he saw the plates had cleared and students were filling to their common rooms, and Ron was standing next to him unmoving and looking concerned. Harry quickly got to his feet and brushed past Ron and Hermione towards the entrance hall. They easily caught up with him though and he fell into a pace between them. Hermione coughed.

"Well, I'm going to the library…"

"Again? Hermione, exams are ages-"

"I'm just going to brush up on a couple things! I'll see you all later." With that she took off down a separate staircase, leaving the two boys alone. Harry felt Ron step closer, their shoulders brushing. Harry shivered slightly from the contact.

"So…fancy a game of chess?" Harry shook his head slightly.

"What?" He said, rather distractedly. Ron chuckled.

"Chess. Do you want to play it?" Harry looked over at Ron who was looking curiously predatory.

"Er- yeah. Sure" They set off down the halls together, and Harry wasn't even sure when it had happened, but he realized after some time that Ron was holding his hand as they walked. It was a comfortable silence, but Harry was bursting to ask Ron about last Tuesday. He did remember his promise, didn't he? Well, it hadn't been a promise exactly. And who was Harry to make sure he followed through on it? A confused individual who wanted the physical contact? He didn't know how to even bring it up. So he didn't.

When they reached the common room, they were immediately accosted by the Creevey brothers who wanted Harry to sign a photograph they had taken of Harry flying around the Horntail. The raven haired boy looked sidelong at Ron hoping he would understand about the chess match, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was be harassed by underclassmen. Harry declined the offer and stole up to the empty boy's dormitory, leaving Ron to deal with the exuberant pair.

Harry had just finished changing into a pair of pajama pants, and was rifling around his trunk for a shirt when Ron entered the deserted dormitory. Looking quickly over at him, Harry noticed the wooden chess board in Ron's arms. Ron gave him an encouraging smile, and Harry suddenly felt a flash of guilt.

"I'm sorry I left you down there. I don't really want to be bombarded with fanboys at the moment." Ron shook his head setting the chess board down on his mate's bed.

"It's all right. I got something good out of it at least." Harry furrowed his brow with curiosity, and Ron grinned mischievously. Rifling in his robes he pulled out a square photograph and held it out to the bespectacled boy. Harry could see himself zooming and diving around a disgruntled dragon, and he looked up at the ginger hurriedly. Ron showed no signs of shame.

"Why do you have this?" Harry wished his voice hadn't sounded so accusing because Ron suddenly looked sheepish, and started blundering.

"Are you kidding? You look amazing. Now I have a keepsake." Ron snatched the picture back and strode over to his bunk where he unapologetically deposited it into his pillowcase. Harry felt himself go red. Ron was planning on sleeping with a picture of him _under his pillow. _But that was nothing when Harry got a good look at the pillowcase.

"Are those my…My…" He couldn't even get the words out, and he felt his face burn even hotter. Ron swirled around and noticing where Harry's eyes were he broke into a devilish grin that made Harry very conscious he was wearing loose fitting pants. Ron folded his arms across his chest.

"Your trousers?" Harry nodded dimly. "Yeah, you said I could keep them." Ron stated, with emphasis on 'you' that made Harry finally meet his eyes.

"I did, didn't I?" Why did his voice sound so hollow all of a sudden. Wasn't this the something he had been waiting for all day long? And now he was floundering in the face of what he thought he wanted. What was different about Ron all of a sudden?

"Would you like to have them back? They're clean now." The fact that he was so cool over the entire affair was only making Harry feel obnoxiously aware of a growing situation in his current set of trousers.

"No…you can keep them. If you want." Ron nodded eagerly.

"I do. Want." The emphasis was so strong on the last word, and he noticed Ron's gaze skim down to his tented pajamas.

"I could use them again, if you want." Ron's eyes widened.

"What?" Ron asked. Harry paused, his throat constricted for a moment, and he was unsure of how to answer.

"If you, you know, wanted them to smell like me again. When I saw you sleeping on my bed you had your face… like you were smelling…" Harry motioned fruitlessly. Ron was silent for a few moments, as though he was enjoying watching him struggle. Harry was almost ready to take it back when Ron removed the pants from his pillow case and tossed them over to him. Harry caught them, and looked back up at Ron who was staring expectantly.

Harry moved to remove his pajamas when he suddenly remembered he had neglected to wear any underpants. He almost never wore underpants to bed, and when he had changed for bed he had only put the clean flannels on. He looked worriedly up at Ron, who had noticed Harry was hard surely.

"Would you like me to turn around?" Ron's voice was playful, but accommodating. Harry knew if he asked Ron to turn around, he would definitely do it.

"Or would you like me to help?" Harry felt his mouth drop open and the skin in his nether region tightened demandingly.

"H-help?" Ron moved closer until he was standing in front of his hesitant friend. He experimentally hooked a thumb into the waistband of the other boy's pajamas.

"Yeah, I could help you. To make up for the time when I should have jumped you in bed." Harry suddenly couldn't think at all. The only thing he could concentrate on was Ron's thumb grazing below his navel threatening to breach into new territory. He had half a mind to tell Ron to back away, but he felt his head nodding against his will. It was worth it for the light that lit up Ron's eyes.

Ron raised his left hand to rest against Harry's collarbone. His skin felt like a furnace, and Harry's body loved it more than he cared to admit.

"I don't want to go too fast, and if I do something you don't like… just tell me to stop, okay?" Ron's tone was gentle, and Harry couldn't take his eyes off the ginger haired boy.

"Ron."

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me like you did last week." Harry was surprised at his own voice, it had come out husky and low of its own volition. Ron whimpered, and Harry decided it was the best sound he had ever heard in his life.

Their lips connected. It was magic again, just like the first. This time, since he was expecting it, he planned to be a lot more receptive. Ron was gripping his neck forcefully tilting the shorter boy's head up for better access, and Harry could feel his fingers gently tugging on his hair. It was blissful pressure, as those lips he had thought about all week moved aggressively against his own, and when Ron moved his tongue in his mouth he could taste treacle. Harry moaned into his mouth, and Ron broke away.

Harry blinked, momentarily stunned at the loss of contact.

"Wh- what? Is there something wrong? Did I do something?" Ron shook his head, his cheeks flushed.

"No, nothing's wrong. It's just… If you keep making noises in my mouth like that, I might come in my pants." Harry felt himself swell with pride at those words, and he wanted to try it again immediately. The thought of his friend coming from the noises he made, stimulated him more than wanking to thoughts of him ever could.

"Right. Got it. Make more noise." Ron laughed.

"Git." Harry couldn't help it, and he laughed too. Ron bit his lip and Harry saw his eyes drop again to his pants. Harry nodded encouragingly. Ron pulled the fabric under his thumb and leaned forward, head tilted down, until he could see into the contents of Harry's pants. He let out a hiss, and Harry felt the band of his pants snap back against his stomach.

"What's wrong?" Ron's face shot up quickly.

"Wrong?"

"Yeah, you looked… Is there something off or something?" Ron grinned.

"Bloody hell, no. Harry, you're beautiful." It felt as though his whole heart had seized at those words. Nobody had ever called him beautiful. Or anything for that matter. Ever. Wasn't that something you said to a girl? Before he could stop himself he-

"I'm not a girl!" Ron's eyebrows knitted together, and his grin faltered a bit. He felt Ron pull against his waistband again.

"I think I've figured that out, Harry."

"But you said… beautiful." Harry felt stupid saying it out loud suddenly. Ron simply nodded, not taking his eyes away from his.

"Because you are. Harry, men can be beautiful too. I think some men are beautiful. And I think you are probably the most beautiful of all." Harry was speechless. Not just at the words he had spoken, but that while he said it he could feel Ron's long dexterous fingers work down into his pants to grip his cock. He finally gasped as Ron twirled his fingers through the coarse black pubic hair and pulled gently.

Harry found his back pressed against the post to his bed, with Ron's left arm threaded in his hair, his other arm in his pants, and his lips moving feverishly along the tender skin of his neck. Harry had never realized what it would actually feel like to have someone breathing down his neck. Ron was amazing, and the sensation was sending shivers down to his tailbone.

Harry had never given much thought to Ron's hands, but he decided now that Ron's fingers were certainly longer than average. They were possibly the best things in the world besides broomsticks. The feeling of his scalp being tenderly massaged, while simultaneously smooth skin glided along his swelling length successfully obliterated every rational thought from Harry's brain. He was panting, moaning with wanton abandon, and it felt absolutely brilliant.

On a somewhat related note, Ron had the filthiest mouth. It was glorious, and there were no inhibitions to anything he said. Even though he couldn't think for himself, Harry drank in every word Ron spoke and it hit him like a bucket of ice every single time. He couldn't think his friend could talk this way. And when he wasn't speaking he was licking and kissing all the skin on his neck and shoulders, sticking his strangely strong tongue into his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

"You sound so good making all that noise Harry. If you don't stop I'll have to shove my cock in your mouth." Harry thought of having Ron's dick in his mouth and was surprised to find that the idea made his legs shake, he was so close. He deliberately moaned louder in response.

"You know how many times I've thought of fucking you? In your bed, in my bed, on the floor, outside on the damn Quidditch pitch, Snape's office. Anywhere. Everywhere. I've wanted to touch you for so long." Harry suddenly couldn't support his own head and let it roll back helplessly into Ron's uplifting hand.

"You don't even know what you fucking do to me, Harry. I go absolutely starkers thinking about you. It's been the longest bloody week of my life, walking around hard everywhere I go. I can't seem to think about anything except buggering my dirty best friend who wanks with no silencing charm and calls out my name." Ron was alternating between gently tugging on his bollocks and slicking his hand furiously up and down his length, letting his skin brush against the slit on his head. If Harry had ever been more turned on in his life, he couldn't remember it at the moment. There was a strange buzzing in his head, and all his thoughts consisted of nothing but Ron. How could they have waited so long for this? It seemed crazy that any other activity existed besides this one. Harry was torn between wanting to come so badly it was starting to hurt and wanting this feeling to go on forever.

"Does this turn you on, Harry? Fucking my hand in the middle of the common room where anyone can walk in and see what a dirty freak you are?"

"Yes!" Had he really just said that? No. He didn't. He almost screamed it. He was certain.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like it. Are you going to shout my name when you come Harry? I really want you to. I keep having dreams where you say my name over and over, and I want to hear it from your mouth Harry." Ron whispered this bought of dirty testimonials into his ear, and when he bit his earlobe one last time Harry felt his release with an exhilarating and sudden rush. Ron gripped his erection at the base, putting pressure on his abdomen and Harry screamed his friend's name when the most powerful orgasm of his life ripped through him.

Ron moaned against him, and Harry's skin rippled pleasantly at the sound.

"Oh Harry, you're amazing." He felt light kisses being peppered lovingly up his neck and against his chin. Harry felt suddenly guilty when he felt Ron's erection pressing into his thigh.

"But I didn't do anything." Ron looked up at him.

"Trust me Harry, you did more than enough." He noticed Ron looking down, and when he followed his line of sight he realized that he had ejaculated right into his trousers. He caught his friend's eye again when he looked up.

"You know, I could just take this pair and give you back the other pair…" Harry laughed out loud.

"Yes, but first we should take care of you." Ron's eyes widened.

"Look, Harry, if you don't want to-"

"I want to." Ron still looked skeptical. "I really… I want to try. I've never touched anyone before. I barely touch myself most of the time, even. I… want to make you feel as good as you make me feel." Ron was quiet for several moments, looking as thought he was contemplating the idea.

"Well, if you really want to, I suppose we can move to somewhere more horizontal." Ron said, his voice low. If he hadn't just come, he'd be worried he'd pitch another tent. Harry licked his lips nervously.

"My bed or yours?" Harry asked cautiously. Ron gave him a wicked smile.

"Have I told you how much I love you today?" Ron dragged a willing Harry Potter back to his bunk where they collapsed into one another for another round.

"No, but I have a good feeling about it."


	12. Mights and Maybes

**You may notice a bit of a difference in the style on this chapter. I had a lot of influence for this one and I took my time trying to relay the exact feeling of the experience to paper. It's based partially on my first *cough* ****mouth to crotch interaction ****and the awkwardness of my first experience, but spent a lot of time rereading Harry Potter and trying to discover a balance between plot movement and character reactions. It gets a lot more emotional in this chapter than I was initially intending, but I hope you all like it. Also, if Harry seems uncharacteristically confident to you, that is not a flaw- it's a setup for the next Harry POV I do. As always, read/review and I will live to make you happy with my stories.**

**Chapter 12: Mights and Maybes**

Ron couldn't believe his luck. He could barely even process it when being forcefully kissed by a half naked Harry Potter.

"Oh Merlin…" There was a shuffling of muffled laughter from his shoulder where the raven haired boy was currently latched, delivering wet open mouthed kisses.

"No, it's Harry, remember?" Ron snickered.

"Hey, any more lip from you and you won't get off so easy." Ron retorted. Harry leaned up, pouting.

"You don't like my lips?" Where was this coming from? Before, Harry had been so hesitant and innocently unresponsive at times. This was unexpected in the best of ways.

"I didn't say that." Ron smirked at the disheveled boy's features on top of him, committing to memory the best thing he'd ever seen.

"Oh, well, I really need to know if you do or don't because it'll affect what I do with them in the immediate future." Mischievous green eyes sparkled out from behind tantalizing lenses and Ron could feel a stirring beneath his robes.

"I love your lips as much as I love every part of you." Harry seemed to be contemplating this and Ron saw something mysterious flicker in his expression for just a moment. Then he felt hands unbuttoning his trousers.

"Good answer." Ron gasped as he felt the material of his trousers and pants pulled roughly past his hips all at once, the cool air making his skin tingle. He was all of a sudden aware how very exposed they were if someone were to walk in. Ron stilled Harry's hands running up the skin of his chest, pushing up his jumper. His friend paused, looking up, and Ron saw panic fill his eyes.

"Curtains." A look of relief washed over Harry. Ron supposed Harry might have thought he wanted to stop. As if that would happen.

"Right. Can't have everyone seeing you like this." Harry sat up and wrenched the hangings closed, and turned his attention back to Ron. The look in his eyes could only be described as maniacal. "This is just for me. You're all mine." Ron couldn't help but groan and nod approvingly, Harry's tone driving him mad. He wasn't sure what had gotten into Harry, but he certainly wasn't complaining any time soon.

"Just for you, yeah." Harry grinned and lowered himself back to Ron's chest planting more of those gut wrenching kisses all the way down to his navel, where he swirled his tongue playfully. Ron was petrified with lust. He didn't know if that was even a thing. He felt horribly incompetent all of a sudden. He wanted to touch, to taste, but couldn't decide what to do. His arms felt so strange at his sides gripping the sheets uselessly. Yet, it was easily the most turned on he'd ever been.

That was, until Harry took his cock in his mouth. Ron looked down and met emerald eyes, and the feeling of being petrified increased. The wet heat of Harry's mouth was maddening, and when he started to move up and down Ron lost any coherent thought remaining to him. He was vaguely aware of spouting absolute nonsense until Harry reached up and pressed his fingers demandingly over his mouth. With an erotic slurping sound he felt cool air impress again upon his appendage and he twitched uncomfortably.

"Ron, you talk so dirty I can't concentrate on what I'm doing. Please, for the love of Morgana, shut up." He blinked stupidly down at the raven haired boy whom he suddenly felt like he didn't know at all, but certainly wanted to get to know better. Ron felt himself nod dumbly. Harry smirked and lowered himself again, this time to lick tenderly at the head of his erection, grabbing him by the base and moving up and down his length. Ron could hear the motion of his hand amidst the natural lubricant, and had to bite his lip from saying all the things he longed to say to his best friend. The torture was absolute.

The sensation was indescribable. Ron thought it was completely possible for him to die at this moment, the happiest man on the planet. The sight of Harry moving against him, on top of him, taking him in his mouth made all of his wanking over the years seem pitiful in comparison. Ron hadn't the faintest clue how he could look so damn good while doing it either. He kept catching his eyes on his, and the seductive gleam in those startlingly green orbs was enough to make the blood currently occupying his groin boil. The sight of those lips wrapped around him was so erotic he thought he might not be able to ejaculate again without them. Ron couldn't keep his eyes on it, and had to repeatedly look away to not come. He never wanted this feeling to end.

Ron tried his best to not go against Harry's wishes, but when he sunk down completely on his length and sucked hard, almost as though he were trying to work a particularly thick milkshake through a straw Ron felt himself moan uncontrollably. He wasn't aware of doing so but his hand had threaded itself in Harry's hair of it's own accord and was tugging gently to show his appreciation. He could feel a vibration on the underside of his organ and realized Harry was humming around him, and when he moved back down to take him all in his mouth again Ron felt that vibration constrict against the head.

He lost it. Literally. Ron was so close and his hips jerked up involuntarily. He heard Harry gag and then felt a sharp pain rake his skin and he yelped loudly. Looking down he saw a frightened Harry, sputtering.

"Oh shit. I'm so sorry, are you okay?" He moved to lean up, but Harry pressed him back down to the bed.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bite you. Are you okay?" Ron nodded, the pain was receding, and his erection was wilting. At the present he felt more guilty about choking his friend though.

"I didn't mean to gag you, I couldn't control it. Just sort of happened." Harry waved him off, the flush from his cheeks possibly becoming more intense. Ron had a feeling it wasn't just the activity itself he was embarrassed about.

There was a somewhat awkward pause as Harry ruffled his hair nervously, looking almost surprised there was a partially naked boy underneath him.

"It's okay. Maybe I should have started out slower, I just… don't really know what I'm doing. I just wanted it to be good." Ron could see a sag start in Harry's shoulders, and realized what it must have cost him to work up the courage to be so intimate with someone when he had never really learned what it was to be intimate.

"Are you kidding? Harry, that was the best moment of my life." Harry looked up skeptically.

"Well…so far." A smile started to spread across Harry's face and Ron felt Harry's hand snake back up his thigh hesitantly. Ron smiled back, and raised a hand to touch Harry's cheek affectionately.

"Maybe we could finish this up then, yeah?" Harry looked nervously up at him.

"With less teeth this time obviously." Ron started to laugh, but his breath caught in his throat as he felt Harry grasp his half-mast, which immediately started regaining its strength. Harry seemed to have lost some of his courage from earlier as he looked up expectantly at Ron. Ron swallowed the excess of saliva he suddenly seemed to have in his mouth and smiled warmly back at him in encouragement.

Harry once again lowered his mouth onto Ron's erect cock, this time holding his hips firmly in place by pressing down on Ron's abdomen. The pressure was quickly combining with the pleasure and Ron leaned his head back on his pillows and tried to remain still for the boy of his dreams. He could feel the heat build up, and he longed to move, settling for tossing his head. The warmth of Harry's mouth was deliriously arousing, and any time Ron even thought about what was actually happening his heart leapt in his chest.

Harry Potter was sucking him off.

As his friend laved tenderly at his bollocks and ran a thumb over the slit at the head Ron knew he wouldn't last much longer. Even though Harry had never done this before, and wasn't working in any established rhythm Ron knew he was experimenting- trying to see what Ron would like. The thought was somehow more earnest than the boy using words. He realized he was moaning again, and when Harry raised up to look at him he thought he was going to be reprimanded.

"Sorry." Harry looked at him quizzically. "I- I was making noise. I didn't think you liked it." Harry shook his head.

"I never said I didn't like the noises you make." Harry tightened a firm grip and pulled slowly up on him, and Ron hissed through his teeth. "I said it was distracting how much it turns me on when you talk about what you want to do to me. You can make noise all you want." Ron sucked in a breath as he felt Harry lean down and blow cool air on his moist dick, making it twitch. Ron watched with fascination, realizing he was whimpering and biting his lip. "In fact, I encourage it. I want to know you enjoy it, don't I?" Harry was speeding up his movements now, and rotating each finger delicately across the tip.

"Fuck Harry." Ron couldn't help himself.

"Maybe that, eventually." Ron felt his ears heat up and his gaze locked on Harry's narrowed eyes.

"If you look just as good on top of me as you do underneath me that is." Ron was panting, he could feel his pulse swelling, his heart was beating and he could feel it in every part of his body.

"I was actually just going to ask you to put those wonderful fingers back in my hair, it feels bloody great." Ron groaned and leaned up to capture Harry's lips, threading his hand through his hair and pulling more forcefully than he'd meant to. His friend gasped in surprise, and his hand tightened gloriously and Ron felt the warmth in his groin give way to a shuddering seizure, pulsing as he came uncontrollably in Harry's hand. When they split apart Ron collapsed back onto the bed as Harry looked around bemused.

"I couldn't hold it anymore." the ginger announced apologetically. Far from looking displeased Harry grinned appreciatively.

"Good then?" Ron nodded, chancing a glance down at his now soiled robes. At least he hadn't come all over the sheets.

"Fucking amazing more like." Harry gave a great sigh and let himself fall over next to Ron on the bed.

"I was going to have you come in my mouth." Ron's head jerked so fast he though he heard it crack. Harry was laying next to him with his eyes closed, and he wasn't even so sure he actually said it if it weren't for the fact that Harry's cheeks were so red.

"Oh Merlin…" Ron's voice cracked too, and he hated how desperate he sounded. Harry chuckled, eyes opening at last and propping his head up on his hand to survey the situation.

"No, we established this earlier. It's Harry." Ron laughed aloud, wrapping his arms around the shorter boy and running fingers in his jet black hair.

"Yes, I do believe it is." He placed a kiss on Harry's forehead, right on top of the telltale scar and he heard Harry's breath hitch. Leaning back he saw Harry's eyes were widened in shock.

"You okay?" Harry seemed unable to speak for a long time and Ron moved away from him, afraid he had somehow made things worse.

"I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to-"

"Why did you do that?" Harry's eyes were still wide, but his head had slipped off his hand and he was laying against Ron's pillows. There was a soft, almost accusatory tone in his voice that made Ron exceptionally nervous.

"I just meant it as…I mean I didn't think… I wanted to kiss you." Harry nodded slowly, and then reached up to touch his scar. His fingers brushed the stray strands of hair away as he thoughtfully ran the pads of his fingers over the blemish, and Ron didn't like the look on his face at all. He felt aware that he had apparently crossed some sort of line. Ron had just registered the fact that Harry might be done with this agreement they had established and was remembering fondly the one and only sexual experience he'd likely experience with the boy before hearing Harry speak again.

"Nobody's ever touched me there." He didn't sound angry and Ron leaned close again to run his hands over Harry's forearm softly.

"I know, that's why I wanted to." Harry looked back at him curiously.

"But why that spot?" Harry looked almost pained in his expression.

"Well, I thought that was the most appropriate. Your scar is the place that's seen the most pain and suffering, I thought it could use a bit of love for a change." Ron didn't know where the words were coming from, but as they left his mouth he knew he meant them. They resonated with Harry certainly, and Ron could see that uncertain flicker in his eyes again.

"Told you not to say anything sweet."

"You asked." Harry nodded in response. There was a silence as Ron gently rubbed Harry's shoulders, and Harry stared blankly back at him.

"Well, I'm going to… clean up." Ron pushed himself off the bed and maneuvered his way through the curtains. The common room was still blessedly deserted and Ron divested himself of his robes and quickly dried himself with a towel in his trunk. Harry had still not emerged from his bed, and Ron was worried about Harry's reaction. He loved Harry, he'd known it for awhile. It wasn't just passion or lust; he recognized the ache within himself to achieve nothing but happiness for his best mate. If Harry wanted their intimacy to end, then Ron knew he would accept it. He had recognized something within himself lately, something bold, raw, and utterly natural that enabled him to accept the present without concerning himself with the consequences. Harry's happiness was the first priority in his opinion, because Harry rarely got happiness.

As he crawled back into bed, he curled up next to Harry who was gazing up at the drapes with an indescribable look on his face. When he got between the sheets Harry turned to face him, as though realizing what was going on. A look of sadness flitted across his features, and Ron stopped in stride.

"What is it?"

"Are you going to bed?"

"Not necessarily, I'm just pretty worn out now. I didn't think the night would turn out so…vigorous." Harry blushed slightly, and Ron tried not to think of how adorable it was.

"Can I-?" Harry started, and stopped abruptly as though catching himself. Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"No, never mind. I'll go." Ron grabbed his wrist as Harry tried to leave.

"What is it?" Harry faltered, turning back to Ron with wide eyes.

"Can I… Stay here? With you, until you fall asleep?" Ron's chest constricted. The thought that Harry even wanted to stay with him in his bed was exhilarating. He might not even be able to sleep. But even more so was the fact that sleeping next to each other seemed somehow more intimate than what they had just done with each other. He wasn't sure what to think. Before, Harry seemed to want space to think about things. All week Harry had been nothing but friendly to him, but now it seemed as though Harry was warming up to the idea of them being something more? But he seemed so upset any time Ron tried to say anything loving. If that wasn't mixed signals Ron didn't know what was. He also knew that if Harry asked him something he definitely couldn't refuse.

"On one condition." Harry's eyebrows rose in his silent question.

"Yeah?"

"I can say any sweet thing I want to you before I drift off." Harry paused, and his mouth opened slightly. Ron was afraid he would leave just from the expression on his face. Harry turned wordlessly out of the bed curtains and Ron felt the crushing isolation that only rejection could bring. Why had he pushed the envelope? He had already clearly upset Harry by touching his scar, and now he had run him off again. All he wanted was the chance to express this emerging sensation he got in his chest every time he saw Harry smile…

Then he heard his curtains being pulled back again, and he looked over in surprise.

"You want to budge up a bit or are you just going to stare at me all night?" Ron felt a grin spread on his face, and Harry smiled back.

"I like staring at you Harry. You just look so good…" He leaned forward and trailed his hand up Harry's taught stomach. No doubt the years of Quidditch had done Harry's body a favor, and seeing Harry without the distraction of a roused cock he could appreciate it all the more.

"Oh, sod off." Harry forcibly pushed against Ron until he was on the far side of the bed and clambered in with him. Ron couldn't help laughing, partially from relief that Harry wasn't upset with him. Once they had settled in, Ron couldn't help draping an arm around him and pulling him close. To his further relief, Harry didn't resist. Harry actually seemed to like it, he sighed contentedly, and closed his eyes. Ron couldn't help letting his hands explore the expanse of his best mate's back. He looked at peace, but if Harry was going to get comfortable Ron wanted to clear the air first.

"I'm sorry, if you didn't want me to touch your scar Harry. I won't do it anymore if it makes you uncomfortable." Harry opened his eyes.

"No. I liked it. I just…don't know what to do with you right now." Ron felt something drop in his chest, and his hands stilled. That sounded ominous.

"What… does that mean?" Harry's eyes widened.

"No! That sounded bad the way it came out. It's just… you're different. Not bad different. Actually, I like it. You're really… bold. As though you know exactly what you want." Ron couldn't help the flare of pride at those words, and he knew he was smiling stupidly.

"And I care a lot about you, I just want to make sure I like you and not just you caring about me. When you say stuff like what you said earlier it makes me confused, I guess. I get weird feelings, and I don't know…" Ron nodded encouragingly. He leaned forward and modestly kissed his friend. He knew what it cost Harry to lay hear and try to explain his feelings to Ron, whom they concerned most. He could appreciate the openness Harry tried to share about everything he was experiencing and was determined to take the information in with dignity, even if it meant delaying his own desires. He would do anything for Harry.

"What did you want to say anyway?" Ron shook his head hurriedly.

"Never mind, I don't want to make anything worse for you. I'll say it some other time perhaps."

"No, you said I could only stay if you got to say your bit. So, I'm listening and filling my end of the bargain." Ron reluctantly withdrew his hands from Harry back and moved back a bit to take him in clearly.

"Harry, you said when I say certain things it confuses you. I don't want you to be confused, and I want to know you're happy in whatever you choose to do. Even if it's not me you want to be with. I don't want to make things worse with anything I say." Harry bit his bottom lip and Ron couldn't help but think of how endearing it was.

"I want to hear it, and I guess that's why I tell you to not say it." Ron shook his head roughly to clear his ears, for the second time that night wondering if he had heard correctly.

"Okay…that makes no bloody sense." There was a pause, and then Harry was laughing. Ron couldn't help chuckling himself.

"I guess it doesn't. Maybe I'm worrying too much about this. Maybe, if I just let myself see where this goes I'll be more sure of everything."

"Not that I'm trying to influence you towards anything mate, but you do worry a lot." Harry's gaze softened and he rolled onto his back, in the small bed there was barely room for them to fit so Ron laid partially on his stomach with his arms curling around Harry's chest. He nestled his face in the crook of Harry's neck and breathed in that earthy scent he seemed to always have, with the unmistakable scent of broom polish.

"So…you were going to say?" Harry turned his head expectantly towards Ron. Ron shrugged.

"I was going to tell you how bloody gorgeous I think you are." Harry's cheeks were tinting again, but he didn't tell him to stop. Ron ran his fingers through that messy dark hair he always longed to touch.

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because I think it, and I want you to know how good you look. It's supposed to make you feel good about yourself. Has anybody ever told you that you look nice?" Harry shook his head.

"Well, you definitely do. Quidditch and a few decent meals have really fleshed you out a bit. You're still thin, but…toned." Ron ran his free hand down the thinner boy's abdomen as he spoke and he could physically feel the rise and fall of Harry's chest halt in response. "And you're not as pale anymore. I guess you didn't get outside much at the Dursley's, being forced in that awful cupboard for years…" He saw Harry wince when the Dursley's were mentioned. He never really spoke of them much, and when he did it was with as much venom as he could muster. Ron supposed they must be horrible if he spoke of them using the same tone of voice as he did Malfoy.

"Doesn't it make you feel good, when I tell you those things?" Harry had resumed breathing, and Ron could tell he was still awake. He looked up at Harry who was once again wearing that indecipherable expression from earlier.

"Yeah. I just never really thought about what I looked like before. Or wondered if anyone found me appealing.." Ron thought about this. Certainly Harry never seemed to think about himself much in any regard. He probably never wasted the time to think of himself in a romantic relationship, because it was out of the immediate concern for the Harry Potter who had never been raised to expect the normal pleasures any other human expected. Well, Ron planned to change that. The most selfless person he knew deserved as much as anyone else did, more even, and he wanted Harry to awaken to those expectations.

"Well, aren't there things you like about me?" Ron looked expectantly at Harry who blushed in response.

"Your hair." It came out barely above a whisper, and Ron grinned.

"You know I have six other siblings all with the same color hair, right?" Harry's lips tightened in mock annoyance.

"It's not the same. Fred, George, and Charlie all have real short hair. Percy's hair is neat, and never goes past his ears. It looks like it's pasted to his head almost." Ron couldn't help but laugh at that.

"And Bill's and Ginny's has the same…variance in color, but it's too long. The length hides it. Yours is long enough to hold onto, and run your fingers through, but not too long to hide all the color in it." Ron was silent for awhile, it surprised him all the time Harry had spent just thinking about his hair of all things.

"Harry…my hair's red. All my family's hair is just red." Harry glowered at him.

"No it's not! I mean, it is red, but there's all the different shades of it and the way the light hits it and it changes when it gets closer to summer. It lightens, and it darkens with the seasons and your roots grow in." He hadn't heard his friend speak so passionately about anything outside of the Quidditch pitch and Ron could feel his ears burning. Harry suddenly reached up and started mussing through his hair, and Ron felt his breath come in heavy. He had thought, given Harry's inclination for thinking the least about what he wanted, that he would struggle with an answer for why he had found him appealing. Especially since he seemed confused about what he had wanted. Crushes were founded on fleeting emotions, examination and appreciation were foundations of relationships… and perhaps Harry didn't realize he was already feeling it. Ron tried not to feel too excited about the implications.

"See, there's copper in here, and a sunset color, and almost a russet brown… It glows in firelight, and it-" Harry stopped running his hands through Ron's hair, pausing at the look on Ron's face.

"Are you okay?" Ron grinned.

"Now who's being sweet?" Harry blinked in surprise, then sank down to the bed again smirking.

"So you like my hair? I've never liked it too much, but I'm starting to think it's not so bad after all. Is there anything else?"

"Everything. I love everything about you, Ron." Ron felt that familiar flutter in his chest he had been pushing down for ages soar to life. Harry froze, realizing what he had said. Neither of them moved, and Ron was terrified he'd take it back. After a moment something dawned in his face, and he nodded in confirmation.

"I love when you make me laugh, and the way you accept all my mad plans, and how you've always been there for me. I love how you'll blow off homework with me, and the way your nose scrunches up when you're really smiling, and I love how you beat my arse at chess even, because it makes you so happy to have someone to play with. I love how you look at me now. You never used to look at me that way before, and there's something about you, Ron. I love it. I think I might love you." Ron nodded, trying not to be too ecstatic at the admission.

"I love you, Harry. And if you want to take things slow, I'm okay with that. Tomorrow, I'll be your friend again if you want. You have no obligation to me, but I'll always be here." Harry nodded, his eyes alight with that curious expression he was coming to see more and more often. He felt Harry's arm wrap around his hip and grip him tightly. Ron wished he could feel the comfort of this warm body in his bed every night, and there was a whispering voice in his mind that maybe he could have just that. He felt his eyes close slowly, Ron was exhausted and oh so comfortable in Harry's arms. Before he drifted off he heard Harry's slow melodic voice continue.

"And your blue eyes…" Ron fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	13. An End to Repression

**I got a little out of hand with this one, but I worked really hard on it. I hope you all like it enough to review! And I want to think AI-ID for being me newfound lovely beta. All mistakes that remain are mine. I don't own HP but I promise someday, I will make you all very happy. Without further ado...**

**AN END TO REPRESSION**

Harry didn't think he had experienced so many emotions in such a small amount of time. He varied through them as the week progressed, cycling repeatedly: guilt, elation, fear, happiness, embarrassment, arousal…love? He couldn't even keep track of them as they were happening. Harry knew the cause however.

Ron.

Ron was flying though his mind at all hours of the day and night, and now that they were 'friends' again they were spending all their time with one another. This wasn't a bad thing to Harry, especially since he found he craved Ron's attention like a myopic drug. It was almost like he was going steadily insane with need. Need for what? His attention? His company? Harry found himself getting so irritated with couples traversing the halls, hand in hand. Often they sat together, often they touched affectionately, often they snogged blatantly. Couldn't they keep that shit to themselves? Or get a bloody room! He was jealous, he knew. Rationally, he understood that as the problem, but it didn't make dealing with the fact that Ron looked so much more tantalizing now that Harry had seen all of him, tasted him, smelled him….

What was more is that Ron had to know this. He had to know he was driving him mad when he winked at Harry from across the steaming Potions room, had to know that Harry was looking at his arse as he sped in front of Harry on the way to breakfast, had to know that he was aroused watching him unbutton half his shirt and work his tie loose after a long day in class- the skin of his clavicle bathed in the firelight of the common room. Hell, the other day in the showers Ron had caught his eye and pulled generously on his own member, knowing Harry couldn't do anything with Dean polishing his teeth in the bathroom.

More than anything Harry just wanted Ron, and he wished he had the stones to not give a fig what anyone thought of it. Some Gryffindor he turned out to be. Part of Harry just wanted to bowl Ron over in the hallway and snog him senseless like he had seen Warrington and some wraith of a Slytherin sixth year do in the dungeons the other day while Snape pointedly didn't notice. The other part was afraid.

The other part of Harry feared what his classmates would think. Apparently being gay wasn't something you prance around about even in the wizarding world. It wasn't altogether non-existent, but because of the withering magical population it was seen as somewhat of an…inconvenience. Or, at least that was how Hermione put it, with a scowl so defined he was sure she could replace McGonagall if she bothered to try and pin her hair up. Any witch or wizard was heavily encouraged to marry and have children because that was what was expected, trying to build up the numbers so to speak. Being gay didn't exactly ensure the end of days, but a lot of people weren't particularly accepting of the lifestyle even if wasn't a choice (which Ron insisted it wasn't).

He could just see the headlines now: HARRY POTTER: THE BOY WHO BLEW? As though the articles Rita Skeeter were writing now were any better, but he was sure there would be an almighty uproar. He didn't even want to know what fun Malfoy and the Slytherins would have at the opportunity that would arise from this one. The thought of it alone made his stomach turn over, but that in itself was manageable. What really made Harry the most fearful were his friends, his fellow Gryffindors and even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Would they look at him differently? Would they find it in their hearts to understand? Harry wished he could be sure of a reaction. Sure, Hermione accepted it with more grace and poise than he thought imaginable. In fact, she probably handled it better than he himself had, given that Harry was thinking there was something between Ron and his bushy bookworm of a friend. And hadn't Seamus seen Ron lick him in the Great Hall last Tuesday? He didn't seem to be perturbed, and he hadn't said anything since to indicate he was uncomfortable around the two of them. Could he be sure everyone would react that way? And possibly the worst thing of all was Ron's family.

Harry had never thought of his lack of family as a luxury before, but in this case he could appreciate that he didn't have to worry about parents that may be crushingly disappointed in their son's decisions. Did Ron's parents know he was gay? Did his brothers? Did Ginny? If it came out that they were together, would they understand? Or would they shun him? The closest thing Harry had was Sirius, but he couldn't see his godfather being too miffed with the idea. In any case, he would only read about it perhaps from a stolen copy of the Daily Prophet and he could always pass it off as Skeeter making things up. When he thought of the impact this could have on Ron however, he couldn't help the wave of guilt that it brought. He didn't even know what he was guilty of really, he hadn't made Ron gay. It wasn't his fault, but when he thought of kind, loving Mrs. Weasley, and level headed Mr. Weasley and pictured their unforgiving faces in his mind he sank into a formidable darkness. They had always accepted Harry, almost like another son, and he couldn't bear to think that they would sever ties with him or their youngest son over something like him loving another bloke. Harry tried to push those negative thoughts away whenever they emerged trying to assure himself that they would understand. They had always understood and accepted what most of the wizarding world didn't…

This thinking certainly hadn't diminished his feelings for Ron in the slightest. He had meant everything he had said in Ron's bed last Tuesday. He still wasn't sure about everything, but what else could this emerging sensation in this chest be? Even before Ron had told him how he felt they had always been closer than normal, people always thought it odd they were inseparable. The fact that every year they had some disastrous escapade certainly didn't help matters. In fact, the only other pair they gossiped about half as much were the Weasley twins whom had always made a distinguished image together- seeming sometimes to read each other's very thoughts and curiously enough spurned all interested ladies from their companionship. When Harry tried to take as step back and look at his feelings objectively he could never discern his feelings as rooting from a brotherly standpoint. When he tried to just think of Ron as his friend he ultimately lapsed into thinking of how good it would be to simply sleep next to him at night without having to worry about how he was going to sneak back into his bed the next morning without arousing suspicion from his dorm mates.

Needless to say, they shattered the Tuesdays only rule in their first week. Moreover, it had been Harry who had shattered it specifically. After noticing Ron had lapsed into snoring contentedly with his arms wrapped around him Harry had made the decision to stay in his bed. That was what he told himself at least, because the truth was that he never intended to go back to his bed in the first place.

Tuesday had been the best thing to happen to him this year. Every time he thought about it he got instantly hard. The sensation of Ron pressing him to the bedpost, the sound of his voice hissing in his ear, the feeling of Ron's dexterous fingers running furiously up and down his cock… He wanted more. He wanted it all the time. He couldn't believe they hadn't done it sooner. Harry thought back to his own botched attempt at getting Ron off with some embarrassment, but his friend had seemed to enjoy it none the less. He, of course, had never tried anything with another bloke before and had no idea what he was doing at all. Harry hadn't paused to think about it; he had been nervous, but the temptation of undressing Ron, of getting off his best friend had seemed so…compelling. Even though he accidentally all but bit him, the breathtaking sight of Ron writhing around for him, Harry, had been nothing short of electrifying. Toss in the way Ron liked to talk when they were alone and Harry was flat out intoxicated. He could barely concentrate for the first several minutes out of sheer shock of what came naturally spilling from Ron's mouth. Maybe living with that many older brothers gave Ron a deliberate lack of good bodily shame, Harry supposed he should thank them. Even though distracting as it was, he wanted Ron to say more. He was mortified certainly, but in a thrilling sort of way. Ron had been fantastic, and he wanted to be the same. In the moment it seemed like a good idea just to do what he did all the time when he doubted himself: fake confidence. It worked in his second year when he had unwittingly beckoned Fawkes to him. Why wouldn't it work in bed? He hoped he came off more assertive than he felt because he was practically shaking from nerves. Harry had tried to talk to Ron like Ron had talked to him, since that was probably what the fiery redhead liked, and he wasn't sure his attempts at erotic vulgarity had been overly successful. He kept telling himself he'd be better next time. He just needed more practice…

What had been the living end however was the night cap to the events. Ron kissing him on the forehead, Ron loving him, Ron holding him. Everything Ron had said made it feel like he was slowly stripping away layer after layer of the protective cocoon Harry had sheathed himself in since he was a small child. Harry was starting to realize things about himself he never let himself contemplate before. For the first time in his life he felt like lifelong companionship was in his grasp, Ron made him feel good about himself in more ways now than he ever had, like he deserved love. And when Ron had said he could stay until he fell asleep, with the stipulation that he could say whatever loving thing he liked Harry hadn't wanted to refuse. Why should he have to? He knew he wouldn't go back to his own bed. So, he put away the chess board in his trunk, changed his pajama bottoms, and closed the curtains to his four poster so Seamus, Neville, and Dean would think he was still in his bed. Harry hadn't known if Ron even wanted him to stay the night in his bed, he had merely operated on his own selfish desire.

He woke slowly the next morning, before opening his eyes he had felt the warm body around him, Ron's arms enclosing him in a refreshing embrace warding off the cool December wind that subtly pervaded their shared enclosure. Memories of the night before gave him a satisfaction he couldn't aptly describe, but he regarded it a pity he couldn't wake up like this every morning of his life. When he finally opened his eyes and looked at Ron's sleeping defenseless face, the freckles visible in the morning glow setting across his cheeks Harry contemplated skiving off to his own bed not knowing if Ron would want him in his. Harry had a feeling his friend had established the Tuesday only rule as much for his benefit as it was for Harry's, to protect his feelings. Then, this was only speculation. The choice was taken away from him suddenly as he heard shuffling in the common room.

"I can't find my good quill anywhere! I swear I put it in my bag, but I can't find it."

"Dean, c'mon mate, you can use one of mine if you like."

"Seamus, it's not the same. I can't draw well with yours, you never properly clean your nibs. I'm not sitting through Binn's class without sketching something, I'll go mad." Harry heard a dejected sigh.

"Fine, I'll help you look." And they had looked for about fifteen minutes, and when they had gone and Harry looked back to Ron he saw wide blue eyes staring warmly back at him. He was sure he gasped in shock, but Ron had seemed glad to see him there.

Glad enough to rut against him until they both came panting and sweating coolly into harsh still air that only winter can bring.

Although the Tuesday only rule seemed to have been tossed by the wayside, Ron still never proactively started on him, he always seemed to approach Ron. He supposed it was his friend trying to respect his boundaries, but part of Harry wanted to make Ron snap. He wanted Ron to lose restraint, and he fantasized almost longingly of Ron and his perverse words fucking him into next week. Literally. He wanted Ron to fuck him straight into next week, preferably every day of the week. He couldn't envision this actually happening in the near future, but he wanted to experience sex like he never had. He had been fine with wanking before, but now? Now he was not content with the bare minimum. Ron had awakened in him a desire for more. A desire for Ron, and a desire for physical and metaphysical love. He wanted someone to fall asleep next to, someone to snog, someone to hold his hand, someone to talk about Quidditch with, someone to tell him he looked nice…

"Damn Harry, you have got to stop doing that." Harry looked blearily up into the mirror to see a red shadowed figure blurred in the reflection. He wiped his face on the hand towel and fumbled for his glasses resting on the porcelain edge to the sink, hurriedly pushing them up the bridge of his nose and turning to face his friend.

"Doing what? I didn't do anything." Ron was half dressed in a pair of faded hand me down trousers that were a bit too tight. Harry didn't mind this as it gave the contour or Ron's hips a lot more definition, and looking at Ron's posterior never failed to lose it's appeal now that he was allowed to do it.

"Waltzing around in a towel. You can't look too good or we'll never leave the common room." Harry felt his grin spread despite himself.

"I wouldn't have too much of a problem with that." Ron snorted, turning on the tap and running warm water over his face and through his hair.

"Hermione will go spare if we don't show up for Charms." Ron spouted through the water. He waited until the ginger looked up from drying his face, his hair sticking up, darker than normal from the moisture. It was oddly enticing.

"We can be a little late." Ron huffed slightly leaning against the sink, and Harry saw his eyes roll up slightly and his mouth curve into a smirk. He was at least entertaining the idea. Taking the opportunity Harry made his way over to Ron letting the towel slip down his hip a little, not bothering to hold it in place like he normally would. Actually, he'd normally be fully dressed at this point but he'd found he was a little less modest lately.

Ron's eyes swiveled to connect with his and his smirk widened.

"We may miss breakfast though." Harry said uncertainly, stopping about a few feet from where Ron stood. Ron's smile diminished somewhat.

"Bugger breakfast, Harry!" And with that Ron closed the gap between them and covered Harry's mouth with his own, winding into the towel and dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor. Kissing Ron never lost its appeal. He always thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth like it was the last time he might ever get the chance, his lips pressing against him roughly as though frightened they may not be there the next day. Each time Harry was swept away in the heated passion Ron provided, and when they broke apart it felt almost as though Harry had lost a necessary part of himself.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" Ron looked confused at the statement, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You've never turned down food a day in your life Ron." Ron finally broke into a wicked grin and narrowed his eyes. If in his first year you had told him that the gangly redhead across from him on the train with dirt on his nose could look this sexy Harry would have thought you'd been confunded something remarkable. Now? Now it felt each time as though the skin on his groin was three times tighter than it should be.

"I guess I've just found something I like more than food."

"Sex?"

"You." He felt a hand enclose around his erection and gasped at the first contact. Ron ran his hand slowly up the length, but avoided the head. Harry looked down to see for himself what he had missed on Tuesday for having his head rolled back. Seeing the pale hand, with a scattering of freckles above the knuckles, touching him and knowing who it belonged to made Harry's mouth go dry. He saw Ron raise his other hand and put in gently under his chin, raising his head.

He looked up to find uncertain blue eyes looking back at him.

"Is this okay?" Harry nodded emphatically, his mouth too dry with need to speak.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes." It sounded more like a croak, but it seemed to be good enough for Ron. Dimly, Harry realized he'd asked for permission yesterday too, before kissing him heatedly in a broom closet on the third floor even though Harry had been the one to drag him in there…

Ron, still holding him under the chin, moved forward and kissed him again tenderly, slowly, his languid strokes of the tongue bringing back the moisture Harry had formally lacked a moment ago. Ron himself was like a cool glass of water in a desert that Harry had finally learned he didn't have to reside in. And when he resumed stroking Harry about as slowly as he was kissing him it was enough to make Harry wobble distinctively. Ron put his arms around Harry's waist and broke off their necking.

"I'm fine." Harry insisted, eager for him to continue. Ron looked quickly over to the sinks for some reason, and when Harry caught him he shook his head.

"We could go to the common room, nobody should be in there now."

"What was that about?" Harry made a motion towards the sinks. Ron hesitated, his mouth open. So Harry nudged him.

"Just…something I was thinking about doing. It's okay, we can go back-"

"What is it? I'll do it, Ron." Ron looked reluctant to say, but Harry saw the edge of his mouth turn up like it did when he was contemplating something.

"I'll do anything with you Ron." His friend's eyes widened a bit. Harry's voice came out huskier than he'd meant it.

"God, the way you look at me, Harry…" And with that he dragged Harry to one of the sinks. Harry didn't exactly know what to expect, but it wasn't for Ron to sit hurriedly on the floor and push himself back directly underneath one. When Harry made to move down with him Ron stopped him with a hand.

"No, you stay up there. Hold onto the sink for support." Harry moved to grasp either side of the porcelain sink with each hand.

"What are you-?" Harry gasped as a wet warmth engulfed him from below. Looking down he could see Ron, one hand fixed around the base of his cock, the rest disappeared into his friend's mouth. Bright blue eyes hypnotized him as he took a long pull all the way to the tip where he placed a kiss over the slit, blinking back at Harry in a sanguine search for his reaction.

"Ron…" he hissed through his teeth as Ron ran his tongue gracefully around the vein below the head.

"Harry…" Harry met those blue eyes again whose confidence easily punctured every inhibition he'd ever had. "I want you to fuck my mouth, and I want you to watch your own face in the mirror as you come down my throat."

Harry had a ton of unasked questions. The first of which, 'how can you say such a candid thing out loud?' and the second, 'where the hell did you come up with such a brilliant idea?' and some less important ones, like 'how are you possibly able to fit under that sink?' and 'what if Hermione comes to check on us?' all were ready to burst from his lips. But when Ron eagerly took him in his mouth again, and used both hands to pull his hips forward as far as he could go the questions disappeared as quickly as he thought about them. As he looked down and saw Ron readily gazing up at him, sweat pooling on his forehead under that mussed up auburn hair, his mouth devouring him hungrily, Harry's heart beat started to rush through his ears again.

The pressure of Ron's fingers pushing into his hips was exquisite, and he knew it would leave bruises but he didn't care. The fact that Ron wanted him so much, grasped him so roughly, took him so freely was as arousing as the actual act of what was happening. It was the way Ron did it. He didn't think he could expect so much generosity from anyone else, and he didn't think a girl would be this much…fun. Ron was wondrous fun being intimate the same way he was with everything else. Everything about Ron was abrasive, striking, bold.

"Ron…so good. Don't stop." As his friend gave a low growl of assent from around him Harry couldn't help but snap his hips forward. He felt Ron moan around him, the vibration sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. The steam from his shower spreading the smell of sweat and arousal throughout the room. The heady scent may have been what made it so mesmerizing, or maybe the fact the he only felt one hand push his hips forward, or the fact that the next time he opened his eyes he saw that Ron had unbuttoned those inappropriately tight pants. Harry found his friend was now neglecting to wear underpants in the daytime as well; his engorged member jutting proudly from its fabric prison and Ron was fisting himself roughly in his palm and his arresting eyes were penetrating him with absolutely no shame.

His friend liked to suck him off. His friend, what was more, liked to suck him off under a bathroom sink while wanking. Those blue eyes were challenging him to something with how imposing he could seem while at the same time looking like an unabashed tramp. Ron was hot. And Harry lost control completely. Removing his right hand from the sink he groped underneath until he grasped a clutch of Ron's hair. With no warning, the blood pumping incorrigibly to his swollen erection, he thrust into those brassy cheeks. Ron's eyes widened, alight, and Harry saw with delight that his friends hand had sped up and a trickle of Ron's seed dripped defiantly onto the floor.

He was moaning, he could feel that passion building in his groin as he got better acquainted with the back of his friend's throat, and remembered Ron's request that he look at himself. His eyes shot up to the slightly fogged mirror to meet themselves.

His first thought was that he wasn't looking at himself. He didn't know who it was, but it wasn't Harry as he had ever known. He had never looked at himself while wanking before, but even if he had he didn't think it would match the intensity of what was going on now in the bathroom. Wanking never brought the satisfied feeling that Ron gave him afterwards, wanking never felt like anything this good. Ron was on a whole new level, and Harry realized this was how he looked on Ron's level. His friend had given him new heights, new experiences ever since knowing him. This was a new part of himself Ron had, yet again, led him to discover. This boy in the mirror was a better him, something about Ron had brought that shy eleven year old, that insecure Harry into… something splendid.

This revelation sped over him, and as he looked at himself: those sultry green eyes shining with sublime bliss behind slightly fogged lenses, mouth open, skin slicked with sweat, and dark hair disheveled. He realized he didn't know himself. This guy looked amazing, and it couldn't possibly be him. This guy was fucking sexy as all hell. It finally hit him, when he whimpered and sighed his shoulders tensing from the tight pleasure wrapping around his groin, when the reflection mirrored the action. Then he understood it as himself, he realized what Ron wanted now.

His orgasm came with the epiphany, sudden, with no restraint. When he looked down again and saw Ron still working himself furiously, lapping up all his ejaculated repression like a kitten with milk he let his hands run through Ron's hair affectionately. He didn't feel soiled or dirty like he always felt after masturbating, he doubted he would feel like that ever again. This seemed so natural, so right. This new Harry no longer cared about such a stupid thing as shame over something their bodies were programmed to do.

"Yeah, get it all up Ron." He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but he'd felt embarrassed saying things like that the other day now he felt good saying it. Devious and unorthodox maybe, but no longer uncomfortable. And to his satisfaction Ron grunted, Harry's cock springing out of his mouth in the process.

"God, Harry." And with a series of breathless gasps Ron came all over the floor, the viscous white liquid shooting out in ropes while those long fingers still moved mercilessly. Dropping to his knees Harry swiped a finger across the head of his friend's spent erection and brought the finger to his mouth, not pausing for the restraint to settle in. It was Ron on his tongue and the tang and consistency of the liquid didn't set him off in the slightest. It was different than he expected, but easy enough to get used to. As he swallowed, he thought he would very much like to get used to it.

Ron smiled at him and leaned forward to place his lips against Harry's once again. As tongues reunited Harry could taste himself on Ron. And he was elated at the prospect. Harry pulled Ron down on top of him, the both of them sprawled on the floor half under the sink and Harry could feel Ron's come sticky and cooling on his leg. Harry wanted to touch Ron everywhere. He felt like he didn't have enough time love his stunning best friend. Harry let his fingernails rake Ron's back and felt his sated best mate shudder and groan into him. The ginger tangled his hand in Harry's dark hair pulling just enough to make Harry think about skipping Charms as well as breakfast. Ron finally broke off their kiss to look down at him, his eyes glowing with gratification.

"You're a maniac Ron Weasley." Ron was smiling contentedly.

"Is that bad?"

"I love it." Ron beamed at him from above.

A sudden loud bang on the door made them both jump, the magic of the moment broken and yet neither of them made a move to extricate themselves from each other's arms as Hermione sped into the room with her wand out.

"Why were two not at breakfast? I waited for twenty-" She stopped, and Harry could see the shock cross his bushy haired friends face followed by a very smug look.

"Just…just make sure you make it to charms, okay?" And she bustled out the door. Before Harry and Ron had time to exchange bemused looks she was back.

"And make sure you lock the door next time! What were you thinking?!"


	14. Night Classes

Night Classes

Monday, June 22, 2015

11:34 AM

**AN: I HAVE NOT abandoned this story. I have a lot of exciting stuff I've been working on, so keep on the lookout. I will plan to update more regularly from here on out. This is actually a redo of the chapter I was planning on writing due to some changes in direction of the story. For those who are interested; I have a Valentine's Day fic (HarryxRon) that I'm planning on doing. In addition to two add-ons of this story. One, of Fred and George Weasley and the other between Seamus and Dean. There have been some astonishing revelations with everything I've planned for this story. It was originally going to end with the fourth book plot, but now it'll probably have a sequel. For everyone who is still reading and likes the story, you're in for some extensive reading- and a whole lot more BL. **

**Also, my beta has rigorous studying to do and so to give her a break I'm doing my own editing for now. If you find any mistakes, just send it to my inbox or review and I'll correct it. Oh yeah! Read and review! If you have and thoughts or desires for the sequel or for the add-ons let me know. If I can't incorporate it in, I may write another story for you! I need constant inspiration so I don't get too depressed. Thanks, to everyone who's helped and followed and reviewed. I love you all!**

**Disclaimer: BL, I don't own HP. Also, this chapter is mostly smut. Soooo...**

"How could we, you know, corner one?" Hermione looked scathingly above her copy of Transfiguration Today.

"Why are you even attempting this? You're both gay." Harry made a furious motion with his hands indicating for her to keep it down. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm not helping you ask a girl you have no interest in, to a ball that you should be taking Ron to Harry." Ron could see Harry tense up at that, and he caught his friend's sidelong glance. He forced himself to smile encouragingly, they had agreed it was for the best. He had known what committing to Harry would mean for him, and this was just his way of being put to the test.

Ron had really wanted to go with Harry, but he knew he had to be blunt about what they were facing. In a lot of situations, Ron tried to be a right little ray of sunshine just to look on the bright side of the situation. Not this time though. He wanted his mate to understand all that could happen if they decided to go public. In any case, he had already caused enough problems for his friend this year and he didn't want to inadvertently cause another.

"What are you gents talking about over there?" Seamus and Dean materialized through the portrait hole. It was just after dinner and Ron was conscious that they were causing somewhat of a blockade to the staircase. Moving to make room, he grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled him forward. He saw his friend's eyes widen as he stumbled forward, and he saw his face flush slightly.

"Er… we were just talking about how we're going to manage to get dates for the Yule ball." Ron wished he sounded more confident than he felt. Seamus and Dean shared bemused looks that weren't lost on Ron.

"What?" Chancing a sidelong glance at Harry, he saw his friend looking distinctly uncomfortable. Dean laughed good naturedly.

"Nothing, something that happened earlier. You had to be there. Anyway, who were you thinking of taking?" Ron wasn't entirely sure Dean was telling the truth, but decided not to press the issue.

"No idea. You?" Dean shook his head. Seamus sighed heavily.

"Well we've got to get a move on or all the good ones will be taken." Hermione shot a wrathful look Seamus' way, closed her book, and all but stomped her way up to the girls' dorm. "What was that about?" Seamus asked. Ron and Harry shrugged.

"You know, Harry, she's probably hoping you'll ask her." Dean made the statement as if it was completely obvious. Harry looked shocked, and Ron himself felt an odd sort of jolt in his chest.

"W-what?!" Harry stammered.

"Don't you and Hermione have a thing? She's always with you guys. And lately we've noticed the two of you getting pretty cozy in the library together." Dean smirked good naturedly at them.

"No! It's not like that, we're just friends." Seamus nodded slightly, a smile spreading on his face.

"You know you can tell Seamus and me, we won't judge." Harry's flush became more pronounced as he shook his head.

"No way, definitely not what she wants. I don't have any interest in Hermione and she has negative interest in me." Dean scoffed disbelievingly.

"Yeah, Dean, I don't think Hermione's into Harry actually. Besides, Hermione's not his type anyway." Ron definitely didn't like the look on Finnigan's face, and was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. The look on his dormmates' face said he knew something he wasn't telling. Looking over at Harry, he saw his friend's face shocked and speechless. Harry wasn't always good at hiding his feelings. Ron could read his emotions so plainly on his face that he wondered why they even bothered trying to keep this a secret.

"What would you know about it?" Dean jibed good-naturedly. Seamus shrugged.

"I always thought Harry had a bit of a thing for redheads, honestly." Ron's heart might have stopped and he wouldn't have noticed.

"Oh, thinking about asking Ginny Weasley?" Dean had obviously not picked up on the tense atmosphere they were creating. Ron had no idea how, since it felt like he was suffocating in it. He wanted to take Harry's hand, but was afraid of what the gesture might imply.

"Actually, I think Harry likes dark hair." Ron heard himself say, before he could stop himself. He could feel Harry's eyes questioning him but he refused to acknowledge his presence. "I think he's planning on asking Cho Chang. You know, the Ravenclaw seeker." He could feel Harry's eyes cutting into him like a knife and knew he had struck a nerve. Seamus looked confused, looking from Harry to back at Ron. Dean's eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh! Yeah, I know who you're talking about! But isn't she going with-"

"No. I like redheads best actually. I used to have a bit of a thing for Cho, but I'm pretty sure I've grown out of it." There was a certain sharpness in his tone that indicated he and Ron were going to have a long talk later, but Ron was more concerned with the look on Seamus' face. "Besides, I haven't given much thought as to who I'd like to ask anyway. Who are you taking, Dean?"

"Well, there's this Hufflepuff girl…" And how Ron made it through the rest of the mundane conversation with Seamus glancing knowingly at him and Harry glowering he had no idea. The group separated when Seamus and Dean headed up to the common room. Harry turned to face him, with a malevolent gleam to the eyes behind his lenses.

"Want to take a walk?" It wasn't a question. Harry grabbed him around the wrist before he could protest and led him outside the portrait hole. They walked swiftly down the seventh floor corridor before reaching a curved stairwell next to a painting of some rather haughty looking nuns.

"What was all that about?" Ron shrugged, nonplussed.

"I don't know what made me say it! I just wanted Seamus to stop looking at me like that. It's like he knew about us…" Harry bit his lip and looked away, and Ron understood.

"Did you tell Seamus?!"

"No! He might have seen something though. I thought maybe I was wrong, but now I'm pretty sure he knows." Ron groaned. The only thing they didn't need to happen, and now it had gotten out. Pretty soon it would be all around the school. Rita Skeeter would probably run another of her horrible articles on it and his parents would find out. And worse, Harry would face the bulk of the ridicule.

"Tell me he didn't see that time in the bathroom…" Harry shook his head.

"No, nothing like that. He saw you sucking my finger that Tuesday after the First Task." Ron furrowed his brows in concentration, he couldn't recall a specific instance when he had done such a thing.

"He saw me what? Why don't I remember this?" Harry couldn't help but noticed Ron looked somewhat upset about not recalling the incident.

"Probably because it wasn't that monumental. The only reason I remember is because he was looking at me with his eyes all wide and I thought for sure at the time he had seen us. Then I waited and he never said anything. Nothing came of it so I thought I might have imagined it." Ron nodded in understanding, and a tense silence followed.

"But he obviously knows." He said finally to the worried look on Harry's face.

"Yeah, and he hasn't said anything to anyone. Not even to Dean. You saw him, he has no clue, so Seamus is clearly intending not to tell anyone." Harry said it all in a rush, almost hoping that the fellow Gryffindor meant no harm.

"Well, not yet anyway. I still think we should talk to him. Maybe, make sure we have his discretion." Ron didn't like someone knowing and not knowing their intentions. They had been friends with Seamus for years, and it worried him how much he was unsure of his fellow Gryffindor's reaction. Harry was nodding in agreement, and a small silence welled between them again, but not as tense as the one before. Ron felt calmer now than earlier. It was possible they needn't be worried at all and Seamus would prove to be a valuable asset to their situation. It was at least nice to know that Seamus wasn't going to turn away in disgust every time they saw him. Looking towards Harry again, he was somewhat startled to see anger etched in his expression.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You want to explain to me why you felt the need to drag Cho into this?" Ron could feel his ears heating up and wanted nothing more than to never hear Harry's voice lift the way his mother's did ever again.

"I- I don't know! It literally just came out. I thought for sure if we didn't go together that you'd end up asking her. I just thought it would sound better if I were going to throw them off the trail. Every good lie has a semblance of truth to it." Harry's gaze softened somewhat, and Ron felt his blood pressure drop back down to normal range.

"Why would you assume I'd ask Cho? After everything we've been though the past few weeks?" Ron's mouth was suddenly dry.

"Because you like her. I've known since last year that you do, even if you haven't said anything. I thought maybe you would go with her since it might present an opportunity for you to maybe put some things that have happened with us in perspective." Harry was looking slightly confused, and Ron was starting to wonder if he'd actually spoken English or if he just babbled incoherently. Suddenly a smile broke out on Harry's face.

"Why are you smiling?"

"That day when she tried to talk to me in the courtyard and you attacked her about the Tornados…"

"For the last time I wasn't ATTACKING. I was just-"

"You were jealous." Ron felt his mouth snap close, ears burning more than ever. Harry's smile widened.

"Just so you know, it's 'used to like.' Past tense. I'm with you now." Ron shook his head.

"I wasn't necessarily looking for reassurance. I mean, it wasn't that long ago. I thought maybe if you went with her it might be a good opportunity for you to figure out if this is what you really want. If I'm what you really want." Harry looked at him with mounting irritation.

"Ron, I want you to trust me. If the opportunity comes for me to ask her, I'll do it. But not because I like her or because I doubt this. I'm doing it to shut you up once and for all." Ron opened his mouth, but had no idea what he wanted to say, he wanted Harry to know what he wanted and not just settle for him because he was the first one to come along. He didn't know precisely how to make Harry understand.

"Ron, don't say anything. I understand, but this feels right with us. I can picture us together so vividly, and anytime I try to think of being with a girl, even Cho Chang… I have no thoughts, I know next to nothing about her. Even if I did I know she'd be next to nothing compared to the guy who sat next to me on the train, the guy who makes jokes about Snape with me, who comes up with bogus ways to get Malfoy expelled, and nothing next to the guy who cares about me as much as you do. Let me prove to you that I know what I want." Ron nodded slowly.

"I still think that you should give a good solid go, then you'll know for sure if you wou-"

"Ron, seriously, please shut up. Besides, I can think of a way better use for your mouth." Ron wasn't exactly ready to concede, but having Harry's body flush against his with his lips moving with his own cut off any other train of thought rather quickly. He could feel Harry's hands lace behind his neck, and he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist pressing him closer. He could feel his heat through his robes, and Harry seemed to curl into him. Ron couldn't help but soak in Harry's presence as their tongues intertwined. When they broke apart Ron was hard pressed to remember why he felt so uneasy a moment ago. Harry grinned.

"You maybe want to continue this walk to a more secluded location?" Harry raised his eyebrows interrogatively. Ron nodded. Looking to his right he saw the portrait of the nuns, the ladies in the picture were staring wide eyed at them both. One was gossiping conspiratorially in another's ear.

"What?! You have something against homosexuals?" The one whispering looked up with wide eyes.

"Oh no dear! We were merely debating on whether you were planning on exposing yourselves in the hallway. You and your gentleman friend might want to try that last room on the left. Nobody's been using that classroom all term, because it has a loose window pane." Ron suddenly felt somewhat sheepish.

"Right. Sorry to just assume. I saw the habit and-" Harry shook his head grinning, and walked past him.

"You'll learn there's more to everything than what it seems young man! Now don't leave that lovely boy waiting for you." Ron looked behind him and saw Harry had already moved into the classroom and was waiting by the door expectantly.

"Uh…thanks. And do you think maybe we could keep this to ourselves?" The nuns nodded emphatically. Ron grinned and hurried to Harry in the empty classroom. Upon reaching the rather frosty entryway he met Harry at the entrance. The bespectacled boy grabbed him by his front robes and dragged him forward before closing the door and roughly pressing him up against the thick mahogany. Ron was somewhat taken aback, Harry hadn't ever really been so forward with him before. His friend had been responsive enough once he initiated physical activity, apart from the one time he had dragged Ron into a broom closet on the third floor.

Before he had the chance to ask his mate what in the name of Merlin had gotten into him he was assaulted by insistent lips around his own, leaving no room for discussion. Ron found he didn't feel much like talking anyway. If he had the capacity he might have wondered about Harry's rapacious behavior, but Ron was far too distracted to reflect on it. Once their lips connected and Ron could smell his boyfriend's heady scent, taste his familiar viscid taste as their tongues clashed… he was lost.

Ron had often fantasized about Harry being so responsive. Ron supposed it was those damn muggles and the way they treated him, but Harry was somewhat reserved. Almost enough to be considered timid; he was gentle and always looked at him as though waiting for approval. Ron had tried to be as accommodating, not wanting to overwhelm the suppressed boy he had found himself in love with. He was prepared to be patient with him, reasoning that most people had a good sense of bodily shame- especially raised with the perspective of muggles. Muggles were always a lot more ashamed of basic human bodily functions. Hell, even the most reserved of the wizarding community was capable of practicing the old rituals skyclad. In short, he was sufficiently unprepared but willing as he let Harry take the reigns this time.

Harry's tongue shoved almost violently in his mouth, his lips pushing roughly into his own and Ron could feel his skin heat up despite the chilly room. The warmth pooling in his groin already prevalent, he could feel his trousers tighten almost painfully. He didn't bother trying to dominate the situation, merely passively responding while Harry explored. Ron didn't even mind Harry's teeth clashing occasionally against his own. In a way he found it arousing how desperately Harry consumed him. Delicate but strong fingers gripped his already tousled hair, pulling him in closer. Harry pressed their hips together in just the right angle and Ron could feel his turgid length pressing against his thigh. Ron leaned into the door, letting his leg muscles relax as he sighed into the kiss. Harry seemed to take this as encouragement as he let his lips travel down his jaw to his neck, sucking and puckering the pale skin. Ron groaned, digging his nails into the waist of his best mate's robes. Sensing his impatience Harry shifted their positions and thrust his hips, their clothed erections grinding against one another in the most tantalizing and frustrating way possible. Ron couldn't help but cry out.

"Bloody hell Harry! You're wild today. What happened?" His friend looked up from his collar; he had pushed aside his robes and uniform shirt and Ron could feel the chill air against his saliva slicked skin. But the real thing that sent a shiver down his spine was the dark eyes that peered at him behind his mate's glasses. What was once bright green was a deep forest, and the look on Harry's face could only be described as predatory.

"Have I ever told you I love hearing you curse?" It took Ron a second to work through what he'd said, normally such a thing would have made him laugh. Not this time. Harry's tone had dropped and it came out so low and full of desire it was almost a growl. Ron didn't know how to react, and Harry didn't wait for him to. Once again the ginger haired boy was taken by surprise when he found those urgent lips against his own. Harry was forceful and rough, bruising his lips in his haste. It hurt and at the same time felt intense and thrilling. And when Harry ground his hips against his again the shock made him pant openly into his mouth. He would have been mortified if he had came right then, which he found he was actually extremely close to doing. This was all happening incredibly fast. He had never been troubled with the notion of coming before he got his kit off. It must have been a problem for Harry too because Ron felt his hands loosen his tie and furiously work at the buttons on his shirt until his hands found naked flesh.

"Gods Ron, I need to touch you." The raw emotion of the admission made the hammering of his heart sound like drums. He became conscious of the fact that his hands were clutching Harry's waist so hard he had to be hurting him. Harry didn't seem to care though as his fingers traveled up and down his chest, gripping his abdominal muscles and pressing fervently into his skin. Ron had never been exactly proud of his own appearance, but when Harry touched him he felt invincible. Despite the cool winter air permeating the empty, dark classroom Ron felt like he was on fire. Harry's skin was like a furnace, and he found himself start to dampen with sweat.

"Fuck, you're amazing Harry."

"Yes, Ron, don't stop talking." Harry's mouth was on his ear, biting down deeply on the lobe. Ron couldn't help himself and bucked involuntarily into his mate, hissing in pain. Harry suddenly pulled away, and the redhead felt a rush of cool air in his absence.

"Damn, did I hurt you?" Ron felt as though he was crudely jerked away from Nirvana at his peak. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were technically in a public classroom and at the same time Harry was pulling away retreating into his shell.

"Yes, and it felt so fucking good Harry. Please don't stop." He could see Harry pause, hesitating, the arousal still prevalent in his eyes. "Harry, I need you." He saw the momentary zealous expression on the other's face, which made him seem almost mad. And Harry was back in his arms again with vigor. He had been trying to remain somewhat quiet with Harry, thinking it was the things he said during their trysts that made him somewhat uncomfortable with physical affection. It was sometimes hard to gauge what he should and shouldn't say, but it seemed he had said something right this time.

He let out the groan of relief he had been holding back, not bothering to censor himself any longer since it didn't seem to matter. Harry was attacking his neck like some sort fledgling vampire before the International Warlock's Convention started the Regulation Breeding Laws of Interspecies Magical Creatures in 1913, and for the life of him Ron couldn't fathom HOW he had managed to remember that little tidbit of information at this moment when he couldn't remember it last year for his History of Magic exam. Maybe Harry's erection grinding into his hip was useful for memory retention and he thought vaguely if his friend would consider this as a viable study technique in the future, but then stopped because the other boy was twisting and pulling on his nipples. He had never considered stimulating them himself, because it didn't do much for him to be honest. It had always felt somewhat foolish, but the sensation of the other boy doing it was a lot more rewarding. He suddenly knew he couldn't keep it in his pants any longer, as he yelped in a simultaneous sensation of tenderness and ecstasy.

"K-keep doing that. Don't stop." He could detect the tremor in his voice, and recognized he was developing a muscle spasm in his right leg that he couldn't control. He was panting heavily, and wanted Harry to touch him more in the one place he hadn't touched yet.

"Do what? You like when I bite you?" Harry's voice snarled in his ear and Ron whimpered with longing.

"Yes! And stop teasing me you wanker." Almost as if he were waiting for that as a signal Harry's hand was immediately undoing in his fly faster than Ron thought was possible, and within seconds (or so it felt) he was exposed to the night air with his friend pinning him to the door with his unfocused eyes and kneeling on the hard wood of the classroom. With no preamble or uncertainty Harry had taken him in his mouth. It was so incredibly different than his first go around, Ron couldn't even wrap his head around it. Harry had seemed slow and methodical his first time; exploring, hesitant, careful. No, this time Harry was ruthless. He immediately hollowed out his mouth pulling incredibly in sure swift strokes up the shaft, flattening his tongue on the way down allowing access to the entire member and curling his tongue along the base on the way back up. He laved his tongue generously along the ridge of the head, with an exquisite amount of pressure before bobbing quickly back down. Ron couldn't help running his fingers through his dark, mussed up hair ensuring it only looked that much more wild. Ron couldn't help but moan as Harry undid his own restrictive clothing and started pawing at his own, now weeping, erection.

"You look so good on your knees." Ron was not sure where that statement had come from, but there was no disputing the truth of it. Harry was flushed, but those menacing green eyes were still holding him in place. Harry was moaning, still eagerly taking in his cock while roughly jerking his own. The redhead hadn't even seen him undo his robes or his trousers for that matter. Ron could hear the slick motion of his hand spreading his ejaculate as lubricant, and it just made him want the other boy more. Harry moved off his manhood with a small sigh, replacing his mouth with a warm hand using the same motion as his right that was working himself.

"You like watching me wank, Ron?" His voice came out in a definite growl this time, and he quickly decided the look that Harry was giving him should be made illegal. Nobody should be allowed to look that good while sucking dick.

"Yes. You're so sexy Harry. Don't stop." His friend must have liked what he'd heard, because once again his mouth descended, this time to his swollen testicles. Ron couldn't help but hiss in pleasure. He could feel his own ejaculate leaking a little from the head and Harry gave it a generous lick still fisting him eagerly with his left hand, then moving back to his bollocks.

"Harry, I'm close." He could see his mate's eyes light up in the dark at the words. He let the redheads' testicles out of his mouth with an odd slurping sound that Ron shouldn't have found so erotic.

"Yeah, come in my mouth Ron." He couldn't pinpoint the look in Harry's eyes as his mouth slid over his cock once more, but he wanted nothing more than to give the raven-haired boy what he wanted. He knew he couldn't last too much longer; his knees were weak, his thighs were shaking with his impending orgasm. Harry was making an obscene amount of noise, and he couldn't help pulling the other boy's hair somewhat harsher than necessary. Just thinking about those deep green eyes piercing him, that sly smile, that warm wet heat engulfing him made him want to-

"Shit, Harry I'm coming. I can't-" and Ron felt that sharp, all encompassing pressure release, and everything seemed to center around Harry's glorious mouth still pulling on his member as though his life depended on it. Ron couldn't help his legs finally giving out beneath and he slid down the door to join the bespectacled boy on the floor. Harry let his softening manhood out of his mouth when it became clear Ron was no longer capable of standing.

"Are you okay?" Harry's eyes were wide with concern, and he lifted a hand and swiped a sweaty lock of ginger hair out of his eyes. Ron scoffed.

"Okay? I just had the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life! Somehow 'okay' doesn't seem to cover it." Harry beamed at him for that and had the grace to look humble. Looking down he noticed Harry was still rock solid and leaking unattended. The viscous liquid was shimmering, ethereal in the limited starlight filtering through the dusty window panes. His eyes flicked hurriedly back to Harry's face and he grinned wickedly. Before his friend could get any more questions out about his well being he pushed him down to lay on the hard floor.

"Ron what-?" But he quickly silenced the other with an impassioned kiss, which became even more vigorous when he realized that thick syrup in his throat was himself in Harry's mouth. Breaking away with a need for air, he noticed that maniacal glint back in Harry's eyes before they rolled back in his head.

"Ron, I want you so bad." He reached down to grab Harry's erection but found the space already occupied. Harry's hand was moving slowly and deliberately down his own length, and Ron couldn't help but appreciate the sight and let out an involuntary sigh. Ron realized he had never actually seen Harry masturbating the last time since his curtains were pulled mostly closed. He had only really seen his face as he relieved himself, which had definitely been hot anyway; Ron was planning to enjoy the show to it's fullest this time around.

It was dark; thanks to the changing of the seasons it was almost full dark before dinner. There was little cloud cover tonight however, and although the moon wasn't plainly visible there was unfiltered star light that made the shadows on Harry's body peak and his skin glow. It sank into his ruffled hair highlighting the darkest locks, and looking so soft. The light flashed across his lenses as he tossed his head from side to side, but occasionally his eyes were open and visible- a striking bright green that made him think of the grasses in the meadows beyond the Burrow. Harry's hand moved languidly, his tongue peeking out to lick at dry lips.

"You're not going to help me out with this?" Harry jerked his head conversationally towards his attentive nether region. He didn't sound upset, merely playful and out of breath.

"Not a chance. I didn't get to see my first show, remember?" Harry let out a small laugh, a deep flush penetrating his cheeks as he looked up at Ron. His hand never stopped.

"Don't laugh. If you don't perform well you won't get your reward." Ron teased lightly, his voice silk. Pulling off Harry's glasses, he looked into the other boy's glazed expression. Harry's breath picked up as he leaned towards him, their lips brushing lightly.

"I get a reward?" The question came out in a husky whisper that made the hair on Ron's neck stand at attention regardless of his recent ejaculation. He knew he was going to get hard again. Ron nodded slowly, descending his lips to press firmly to his partners.' Harry groaned into the kiss and Ron felt a shiver run up the length of his spine before pulling away.

"Yeah, if you're a good boy that is." Ron winked conspiratorially. Instead of the laugh he expected he saw his friend's eyes narrow.

Ron, when have you ever known me to be a _good_ boy?" The emphasis on the end of the sentence made Ron's erection perk back up in a weak recognition. Harry's voice was wavering and the thought of his friend losing all control because of him became an instant desire.

"I could always just punish you instead." Harry's eyes grew wide with wonder and Ron could hear the slick sound of rubbed liquid on Harry's erection pick up speed.

"P-punish?" He didn't miss the flicker of excitement he saw in the other boy's eyes. He loved the effect he could have on Harry. When he found himself thinking of just a few weeks ago he had been afraid his friend would have been disgusted, or at the least nervous if he found out about his feelings. He had never expected in all his wildest dreams of having The Boy Who Lived panting and half naked in public classroom. He leaned down to lick his way up Harry's neck and he could feel his breathing become erratic and labored. He yanked Harry's head to the side with a free hand, and pressed his lips to his ears.

"You want that, right? Don't act like you don't. I can tell." Harry let out a long groan and thrust his hips forward eagerly to meet his hand. Ron grinned into his mate's ear and sighed loudly savoring how his body quivered. "You have to tell me you want it, or I won't do it."

"I want it." Was the hoarse answer he received, and he buried his face in Harry's soft dark hair.

"Want what? Be specific. You smell so good by the way." Harry groaned again, this time in frustration. He had expected Harry to be a little bit reluctant, not that he was actually planning on anything happening between them tonight. This was actually completely unexpected and Ron couldn't help but grin at this satisfactory ending for the day.

"Punish me, Ron. Please, touch me." He never imagined Harry pleading with him so much. Not that he was complaining. He had finally managed to break down a barrier with the other boy. Always Harry felt as though he had to do this or that to protect or live up to his own name. The burden of that must be terrible. Ron was glad the other boy didn't mind him taking care of him, and didn't mind laying back and letting Ron make him happy. When Harry begged him, he felt an immense sense of pride.

"Oh, I'll do so much more than touch you." Leaning up he took in Harry one more time. His friend's forehead was beaded with sweat, mouth open in long ragged breaths, those green eyes once again challenging him, and his right hand moved relentlessly with that slippery sound that turned him on more than he would admit to himself. He hurriedly positioned himself between his best friend's legs and when Harry did nothing more than peer down curiously, Ron took that as encouragement. When he grinned at his friend, he was rewarded with a sexy smile. He reached up his friend's chest pushing up the uniform shirt as he went, ghosting across the skin until his fingertips brushed his lips.

"Open up sexy." Without reservation he pushed in two fingers, and Harry's eyes widened in surprise. Ron wrapped an arm around a shaking and sweaty thigh pulling him close and kissing the knee. Harry paused a breath and then laved a wet tongue over Ron's fingers, closed his mouth and his eyes and started sucking in earnest. Ron tried to ignore his now erect cock conveniently resting between Harry's legs, but the sight in front of him was proving hard to ignore. He had a feeling Harry knew how much he was torturing him because after opening his eyes for a time, he saw a sly smile form around his fingers. Harry drew the digits in deeper, and arched his back effectively rubbing his testicles against his hardening length. Ron knew that sight would be ingrained in his memory forever, he made a mental note to remember to wank to that later. Then he realized, he may never have to masturbate again.

"Fuck, Harry." Harry made a noise like a whimper, and kept moving his groin up and down against Ron's length. Ron couldn't take it anymore; removing his fingers from Harry's mouth and ignoring his protests he started rubbing against the tender skin right behind his balls. Harry's small objections were immediately silenced and he seemed to melt into the touch. The hand stilled on his member, and a sharp intake of breath made him look up. Harry's eyes were unfocused, and Ron was caught wondering if maybe this would be a bad idea. Almost reading his thoughts Harry bucked up to reach his finger, Ron couldn't help smiling.

"Relax for me, baby."

"Did you just call me-" Harry leaned back and hissed as Ron pushed against the resistant opening of his anus. The first ring of muscle went smoothly but when he reached the mid joint of his finger it was almost unbearably tight. Ron leaned down and licked a stripe up Harry's shaking thigh.

"Harry you need to relax mate, trust me. Just concentrate on me. Here-" Ron reached for his friend's hand that was palm down on the floor and placed it back on Harry's waning erection. The hand resumed stroking, and Ron concentrated on placing tender, open-mouthed kisses along his abdomen.

"Make yourself hard for me, I love the look on your face when you're turned on." Harry grunted from above him, and his cock regained a bit more interest. Ron smiled into the soft black hair around his friend's nether region. He wiggled his finger experimentally and found he had bit of a wider range of movement and his finger was still decently lubricated. He slid in slowly until he was buried to the knuckle and looked up to survey the prostrate boy before him. Harry seemed to be distracting himself successfully, his erection now standing proudly at attention. Just to make sure, Ron sucked the pair of swollen testicles before him into his mouth. He heard Harry cry out, and his hand moved faster than ever. Ron soaked in the pleasured noises of his partner as he experimentally pulled and pushed his finger back and forth. He was sure Harry was on some level uncomfortable, but he chose to look at it as a good sign he hadn't requested for Ron to stop. After a few minutes of minor diversions and awkward fumbling on Ron's part he found that small protrusion inside his friend on the curve inward. He heard a harsh gasp from above him and he couldn't help but snicker.

"Oh shit, what was that?" Harry's fogged voice made Ron look up with a broad grin.

"Your prostate. I found it." He couldn't keep the smug satisfied tone from his voice. For emphasis he rubbed again and watched with satisfaction as Harry arched his back and mewled in response, his hand falling away onto the floor again.

"Feel good? Or Bad?" Ron asked. "I can stop anytime." He was only partially teasing, his eyes locking onto his friend's and giving him an out if he wanted one.

"It feels amazing. If you stop now I will personally hex your genitals off." Ron appeared to think on it for a minute without moving, causing Harry to curse and wiggle his arse down for more contact. Ron shrugged ambiguously, secretly loving the wanton way the smaller boy whimpered for him to continue.

"Well, seeing as I really enjoy having my genitals…" And he pushed again, and Harry's eyes snapped closed, a higher pitched moan than he had ever heard emanated from his friend and the sight and sounds made it all worth the trouble.

"Gods Ron, more! Please…" If Harry wanted to beg him, he knew he would deliver. He just wanted to make sure it didn't hurt him. Leaning down again, he added his own saliva to his middle finger successfully lubricating it again. He quickly got Harry to stimulate himself while he worked in the second finger. He could feel his friend tense, but Harry was wiser to the rewards of the situation now. Even so, Ron placed placatory kisses and bites along his thighs as he stretched and worked his fingers.

Harry was clearly enjoying himself; pushing back on his fingers shamelessly as he tossed his head from side to side. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, the sheen of sweat glistening on his pale flesh. Ron was particularly loving the sight of his own fingers moving inside, feeling the interior of his friend's magnificent posterior. Ron was drunk on the sight of his friend, helpless and wanting him. His heart beat rapidly, as he thought wildly. He could probably fuck Harry right here in this classroom and his friend would thank him for it. He imagined his leaking cock in place of those fingers, energetically pumping inside Harry while he cried out in ecstasy…

"Fuck Ron, don't stop!" Ron quickly tried to reign himself in. They weren't ready for that, and he had never even spoken to Harry about it. Even then, now was the first time he had ever had anything inside him really. He tried to appease his own needy erection by stroking with his left hand. He wasn't as used to using his other hand, but it would work if necessary.

"You look so sexy Harry. It feels so good inside you. I want you so bad. Wish I could fuck you right here." Harry's eyes snapped open, his hand moving furiously along his protuberant member. Harry threw his head back, and Ron could see his eyes roll back in his head as he screamed Ron's name. He watched in fascination as Harry ejaculated all over his chest, the splatter reaching all the way to his collarbone. The ginger haired boy was completely unprepared for him to come so suddenly and he felt an addictive tightening around his fingers. He expected Harry to lie back and relax for a minute post orgasm, once he had removed his appendages from his arse. What he didn't expect was for Harry to immediately rise to his knees and accost him.

Harry was just full of surprises today, and Ron couldn't have been more thrilled with the hand that took over the job of his second arousal for him. He leaned into the embrace, and Harry kissed him more thoroughly than he had all night. Ron couldn't help but hum in satisfaction as that tongue he'd gotten so familiar with explored him yet again. Every time Ron tried to twist or turn his head for air Harry became more forceful in his journey, sucking his tongue provocatively and nipping at his lip. When finally Ron was able to breathe, he felt Harry's left hand in his hair and a hot voice in his ear.

"You want to fuck me, do you?" Ron couldn't tell if the voice was anger or excitement, but it was heavy and low and if it were possible to have sex with a voice…

"Yes, so much."

"Good, Ronnie, because I can't stop thinking about it. Wondering how it'll feel with your dick inside me." Harry's hand was pulling him roughly, and even though the pressure was intense he couldn't seem to tell Harry to slow down. He was delirious with desire, that voice seemed to be flowing through his own veins forcing his heart to pump and beat faster. Harry was in control, and Ron couldn't have had it any other way.

"Fuck, Harry don't stop."

"I imagine you'll dominate me, take me from behind and fuck me good and hard. I'll scream your name when I come, Ronnie." The force of Harry was something Ron couldn't take any more. He felt the heat and pressure in his groin and then there was nothing but Harry's breathing and him blathering back at Harry. Ron could only feel that amazing pulsating pleasure ripped from him. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but he felt his friend's hand squeeze and milk the ejaculate from his tender and now abating erection. For a moment there was silence apart from heavy panting, that soon slowed to even breaths. When he had calmed down enough he met Harry's shining eyes.

"Uh…about…all that. I was just…" Ron was rendered speechless when Harry raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Did you just call me Ronnie?" Harry smiled in delight.

"Did you just call me, baby?" Ron could feel his ears burning.

"I thought it might distract you." Harry playfully smacked him on the chest and Ron could feel the sticky drying substance on his skin.

"Well, it DID work I suppose."

"Was that…was that okay? I mean… I just got so riled up watching you. I didn't think about-" Ron felt guilty, he really should have talked about doing those things with Harry first. He had made a decision to take things slow and let Harry take time to adjust to a relationship with a male, and here he was knuckle deep in the guy's anus. So much for self-control.

"Ron, that was incredible. I loved it, and if I hadn't just had the most…" Harry sighed as though looking for the right word. "Complete orgasm of my life, I guess I should say, we would be doing that again right now." Ron breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled lazily cocking his own eyebrow this time.

"What does 'complete' mean?" He had meant it as a joke, to tease the other boy but Harry's smile disappeared as though he were seriously considering the answer.

"It was like…I came with my entire body instead of just my penis. Does that make sense?" Ron nodded slowly. "It was incredible, I never imagined it could feel like that. Where did you learn to do that?" Ron felt the embarrassment as keenly as he could feel the chill mingling with his sweat.

"Maybe we should get cleaned up and out of here first, it's kind of cold now that we aren't-" Harry stopped his hands from pulling out his wand.

"Seriously, Ron. I've been trying to do that for weeks and it hasn't worked out like that." Ron paused.

"You've been trying to hit your prostate for weeks without me?" Harry looked sheepish.

"Well, we've been sleeping in our own beds most nights, and I've been curious about… what it would be like. You know, if you ever wanted to…" Ron could feel his chest constrict.

"So you've thought about us together like that? I couldn't tell if you were just saying that to get me off or if you were serious." Harry shook his head hurriedly. Ron realized Harry still wasn't wearing his glasses and probably couldn't see him very well. Looking around hurriedly, he saw the spectacles lying on the ground haphazardly with one arm extended. Leaning over a few feet he snagged them and sat back up again. When Harry reached out for them, Ron withdrew with a grin.

"Let me do it." Harry's brow furrowed inquisitively as Ron extended out the other arm and leaned forward to carefully curve the arms around Harry's ears and pushing the lenses up the bridge of his nose. His friend raised a hand to adjust slightly, and Ron could see Harry's face take on an oddly pensive expression.

"What? Something wrong?" Harry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Ron's neck, effectively pulling him forward in a delicate kiss. He felt Harry's breath a second before, and when their lips connected it was unhurried but chaste. He could feel the smaller boy's lips gently pulling on his own in their own embrace and when they broke apart Ron sensed there was something he had just done that held a lot more meaning than he realized. After a moment, Harry spoke.

"Nobody's ever done that before." Ron nodded, somehow understanding that whenever Harry said those words- he'd broken down some invisible wall within his friend's heart.

"Is that a problem?" Harry shook his head.

"It was just… really intimate. I suppose." Ron couldn't help but snort in laughter.

"More intimate than what we just did?" Harry let out a laugh in return.

"It's just a different kind of intimacy, really." Ron raised a hand to push back some messy dark strands of hair from the his friend's face.

"Let's get this straight right now. I want to be all kinds of intimate with you, Harry." He could see the other's face become blank, and when he looked down Ron thought he might have lost him to some inner demon. When he looked back up after a few seconds, Ron was pleased to see him smiling.

"I'd like that." Ron smiled, and leaning forward punctuated the entire affair with a poignant kiss.

"Come on, let me clean you up." Ron withdrew his wand and tried to perform a quick scourgify charm. A bit of the mess disappeared, but Harry was still quite covered. Ron scowled at his wand while Harry snickered good naturedly. Harry pulled up his own trousers and tried to fix his robes back in place, but there was no denying by his hair and the scent of sex rolling off of him, exactly what they had been up to. Ron was sure he probably was experiencing the same problems.

"I don't mind being a little messed up to be honest." Harry's comment was completely unprecedented. Ron looked up at him incredulously as he made sure his own unmentionables were decently covered.

"You don't mind being covered in yours and my spunk in a cold classroom?" Harry flushed, and gave Ron a glimpse of the predator he had been earlier.

"No, it makes me feel dirty… in a good way. I like being covered in you." Ron felt his heart flip flop in his chest.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to you talking to me like that." Ron finally managed, ignoring Harry's smug face.

"Good, now you know how it feels. Shock looks adorable on you by the way." Ron pouted at the man who was now straightening his tie for him.

"You really think so? I could be adorable for you, baby." Harry smacked him hard in the shoulder.

"Quit calling me that!" He spat out, but the smile was still evident. Ron grinned and pushed him up against the door. Harry landed with a thud and looked up in surprise.

"No, I like it. You're mine Harry Potter. If I want to call you some sweet adorable nickname, you're going to take it Angel." He couldn't tell if Harry was angry, amused, or turned on but his lips drew thin and his eyes glowed like an large cat about to pounce.

"I'm not a girl, don't call me Angel." Ron shook his head.

"It's not about gender. It's about you, and how you make me feel. I call you Angel, because I'd like to treat you like one. Besides, if we're getting technical most of the seraphim are male. Seriously, look that shit up. If it makes you feel better you can call me anything you want." Harry looked blankly at him for a moment, his expression dark.

"What about 'dick'?" Ron waited until Harry's face started to crack in laughter before forcing him into a kiss.

"Anything. I'm all yours Harry, and you can call me what you want." Harry stilled for a moment.

"Just not Angel. Okay?" Ron laughed.

"No promises." Harry looked for a moment as though he was considering something, but then pushed him firmly away.

"If we stay in this classroom any longer, we might as well conjure a bed. I can't keep you out of my pants long enough to say 'no'." Ron grinned with pride as he stepped back so Harry could check the hallway. Pausing to see if the coast was clear, they both exited into the dimly lit corridor.

"So, did you mind when I called you Ronnie?" Ron reached for Harry's hand, finding happily that the other boy didn't resist.

"No, it was weird because that's what my mum always calls me. Nobody else calls me that except her. I was so far gone though, that it didn't even occur to me what you'd said until it was over. For the record though, I like it a lot more when you say it." They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, nodding to the friendly portrait of nuns as they passed. When they got closer to the Gryffindor common room he noticed Harry eyeing him significantly.

"What?"

"You still never told me who you learned that from?" Ron could feel his ears heat up again.

"Is it really important where I learned it?" Ron asked tentatively. Harry frowned.

"I just thought you might have been with someone else before, you seemed to really know what you were doing back there." Ron felt his flush fade as he heard the concern in his mate's voice. Of course Harry would want to know where he found out how to do it. He felt slightly guilty for not discussing this sooner. Ron couldn't even begin to imagine who in their right mind other than Harry would be willing to do anything sexual with him, but Harry had obviously thought about it and he didn't want Harry walking away thinking he had fooled around with anyone else.

"I haven't with anyone else. I learned that stuff from Fred and George." There. He said it. He waited for the laughter, but there was none. When he looked over at his friend he saw his eyes wide with disbelief.

"You did that with Fred and George?!" Ron couldn't hold it in. He felt his face split and the burgeoning laughter burst out of him. He leaned against the wall for support as Harry started to smile, looking slightly put out. When he could breathe again he looked at Harry's face and thought he might dissolve into another fit of giggles, but he fought the urge.

"I never did anything like that with them, that's messed up, they just sort of told me how to do it. I've… done it to myself before." He admitted, feeling the flush creep back to his ears. Harry looked like he was about to laugh himself.

"You do it to yourself?" Harry's voice came out in that familiar low tone, and Ron found himself nodding.

"That's hot." Ron grinned suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows.

"What do you think about? You know… while you're…" Harry made a suggestive motion with his fingers. Ron looked down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before pulling Harry in close.

"What do you think I fantasize about genius? You're not the only one who likes cock here." For emphasis he cupped Harry's crotch and squeezed. He heard his friend gasp in surprise, and moved quickly away. Harry looked as though he'd like nothing more than to jump his bones in the hallway, but shaking himself slightly he seemed to gather his wits and turned quickly back down the hallway towards the common room. Ron's long legs let him catch up easily.

"No more turning me on in the hallway!" Harry whispered thickly. Ron felt as though if he smiled anymore tonight his face would crack open.

"You asked a question. I answered it. I'm not responsible for your bodily functions." He managed to say, haughtily and earning himself a reproving glance from his lover.

"Just so you know you're hair looks insane right now, and you can definitely tell we've had sex. I'm going to go in first, and you wait a minute and then come in. How's that?" Ron cocked his head.

"You young men did what?! I will tell you, I am the ward of Gryffindor Tower and if you two boys think you can just-" The portrait of the Fat Lady was indignant, and they hurried to shush her. She leaned back in her frame looked disapproving.

"You think it would look more suspicious or less suspicious if we came back together?" Harry's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth as though to respond, but Ron could tell he was at a loss. Before they could come to a decision the portrait of the Fat Lady swung forward and a cacophony of sound reached their ears. A couple of second year girls hurdled past, not giving them a passing glance and before they could second guess their decision they both strode into the common room.

Nobody said anything or hardly even looked up. Hermione was presumably in the library or in the girls' dorm, there was a group of fifth years who were poring over their books and talking in harried whispers. The only people who spared them a glance were Fred and George who were huddled in a far corner. They cracked into identical grins and nodded at his mussed hair and askew robes. He felt his ears reddening, but he nodded back just the same as he made his way up the boys' dorm staircase behind Harry.

When they reached the dorm they found Neville was the only one there, reading a book and laying on his bed. When they came in he looked up and gave them a small greeting and went back to his book, only to sharply reconnect with theirs a moment later.

"Uh… Ron. What happened to your neck?" Ron felt his neck, but couldn't tell anything was amiss. Looking over at Harry, he noticed the other boy moved swiftly to the showers. Ron hastily tried to think of something to say, only to stumble over his words.

"It looks like you got mauled by one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended-Skrewts!" Ron latched onto the excuse hastily.

"That's what happened actually. I was helping him…and one of them burned me on the neck." He could hear a muffled laugh from the bathroom.

"Is that where you were this whole time? You should go to the Hospital Wing!" Ron shook his head hastily, moving towards the bathroom.

"No, trust me Neville. I'm fine. You don't need to go to the bathroom in the near future, do you?" Neville leaned back, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

"Well, no…" Ron grabbed the door handle, opening it a fraction.

"Good, then you won't mind if I lock this door for a bit then?" Neville's eyes darted towards the semi-open door.

"Harry's in there… Ron are you sure you're okay? You're acting pretty strange. What's gotten into you?" Ron shook his head.

"Trust me, I'll be fine. Thanks, Neville." The last thing he saw was Neville's open, confused maw before the door snapped closed. Turning around, he came face to face with Harry who had completely stripped and was leaning provocatively against a sink.

"A Blast-Ended-Skrewt?" Harry was smiling seductively, and Ron felt himself stir within his robes.

"Apparently! What did you do to me?!" Moving past Harry towards the sinks he looked in the mirror. Almost from his jaw to his collarbone was completely covered by purple splotches. There was another hidden just beneath his collar on the right side that had a perfect set of teeth marks to go with it. They didn't hurt, but it did look like he'd been mauled by a manticore. He turned to Harry.

"Are you proud of yourself?" Harry moved forward to press him into the sink, bending him slightly backward.

"Yeah, I am. You look good enough to eat. Besides, you didn't seem to complain too much when it was happening. What was it? 'Keep doing that! Don't stop Harry!'" In what Ron could admit was a great imitation of his strained voice from earlier, he struggled against the shorter male only to come up short as Harry pressed his back forcefully into the sink. Harry was done teasing now, and looking at Ron as though contemplating all the other body parts he could maim.

"Take off your clothes, we're going to take a shower." Ron, without question began to undress. Harry seemed to like when he responded dutifully.

"Good. We're going to get clean and then dirty- in that order. We just have to keep it down in case Neville gets wind of what's really getting into you." Ron could feel Harry's hand sneak around his waist and rub gently against his cleft. Ron felt his backbone shiver expectantly.

"I love you so much, Harry." Ron could feel Harry's lips traveling up his neck again, and found he was somewhat pleased with having been marked by him.

"I love you too, Ron." The teeth sinking into his skin made sure the marks were a good representation of that testimony.


	15. Don't Call Me Baby

"Well… At least we have dates now." Harry nodded his head numbly from the plush cushion next to Ron. He could tell his friend was trying to keep his tone light, but wasn't exactly succeeding. He didn't know precisely what to say either. They hadn't had such an awkward silence between them since they had last fought. Considering everything that had happened between them Harry wasn't sure what to do.

Everything was so complicated now, and he could feel an ache in his chest. His mouth was dry, and oddly the warm nature of the common room seemed to make it all worse. There were girls giggling in the corner, fresh from dinner, and eagerly discussing what they were going to wear to the ball- which didn't help. There was loud chatter and a warm fire burning in the grate, and yet Harry felt the atmosphere with him and Ron was significantly colder. It just felt…wrong. They shouldn't be here. Without even realizing it Harry suddenly became aware that he was clutching the cushion so tightly his knuckles were white. What was more, is he only realized it because he felt Ron's touch, light as a feather against the back of his hand. He looked up, and his eyes locked with his mate's startlingly gentle gaze- bright blue and eager, he wished he could just drown in those eyes. What was wrong with him? Not even an hour earlier he had been fawning over a girl, and now he was thinking about Ron again?

"You want to…take a walk?" Ron's voice was gentle too. Too gentle. Why was he smiling? Harry didn't feel at all like smiling. He wanted…he wanted…What did he want?

"W-walk?" Harry practically stuttered, as though he had never heard those words before in his life. He inwardly cringed at his own disposition.

"Yeah, you know with me?" Ron asked again, managing out a huff of laughter. "And possibly with your legs? It's all the rage now. All the cool kids are doing it." Harry laughed once, feeling his lips turn up in a smile despite himself. How did Ron always manage to make him laugh without even trying?

"Alright." Harry moved off the sofa, and Ron rose wordlessly behind him moving towards the portrait hole. Harry trailed along behind him, lost in thought, and just let the redhead lead the way. He took the time to digest his feelings in the slow stroll they had picked up.

He had resolutely been against asking Cho Chang to the ball just because Ron wanted him to. He had thought he had gotten over her. For the most part, he had. He wasn't sure what made him ask her. She had just been walking to class with her friends and he felt a slight sensation of butterflies in his stomach as the cool waning sunlight dashed against her high cheekbones and… But why? Because she was a pretty girl? He knew next to nothing about her other than she liked Quidditch, played seeker, and supported the Tornados. And when he compared that feeling to what he felt for Ron it was no contest. Ron he could see himself with. Hell, he had been with him in almost every sense of the word. But Ron hadn't been there. Cho had. Maybe it was the fact that she had been so close, maybe his little crush wasn't as dead as he had thought. Maybe Ron was right all along.

That thought alone crushed him. He didn't want to just… use Ron. What kind of friend was he? What kind of boyfriend was he? How could he justify that? But he couldn't just control how he felt. It just happened against his will. He was also a little disgusted with himself that a small part of him was upset she had already agreed to go with someone else. No, not just someone else- Cedric. Whom he now felt a small curl of anger towards every time he thought about him. Forget that he had helped him with the dragons, he felt almost like he had been betrayed. But that wasn't right. He hadn't really. Cedric had just asked her first. That was all. And why was he so upset about it anyway? Ron had asked Fleur Delacour.

That was a whole other can of worms. He now felt some resentment towards her too. Fleur thought she was so much better than him. Calling him a stupid little boy… What did she have that he didn't? Besides long silvery hair and smooth skin, that sexy accent, and full breasts… Was he really jealous of having breasts? Was Ron completely gay if he still had a thing for Fleur? He had noticed Ron looking at her before. Was it just because she was a veela? Or did Ron maybe find women attractive too? Was he disappointed that Harry was a male? But that was absurd. Ron seemed to really like how he looked, but did he like Fleur more than him? Was it her accent that he liked? Maybe he could learn French…

"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry stopped, hearing Ron's voice from behind him. He turned around and realized his friend had actually stopped walking and was leaning up against a tapestry hiding one of their favorite hidden passageways. He almost had forgotten Ron was even with him, he was so caught up in what a clusterfuck today turned out to be.

"I- Er- Was just thinking about today." Ron nodded towards the tapestry, arms folded across his chest.

"I gathered that much. Want to join me and think about it together?" Harry was hesitant to talk about it. He didn't know how much he should or could divulge. Would Ron be upset? Why wasn't he upset already? Harry certainly felt upset and Ron was being a lot more cool and logical he had ever come to expect from his best friend. It was somewhat off putting. But Ron was holding the tapestry open, and Harry still desperately wanted to be close to him. So he followed. Once the tapestry was closed they were plunged into near darkness. Harry gave himself a brief moment to adjust, staring down at his mate's shoes before looking up and making out Ron's dim features.

"How about we hash this out, yeah?" Harry found himself nodding numbly in agreement. Before he could think consciously about it his fingers had entwined with the collar of Ron's school robes, and Ron's hand held his cheeks lovingly.

"Right. So what's bothering you?" Harry paused.

"What's bothering me?!" Harry asked incredulously. Ron seemed taken aback, his eyes slightly widened in the gloom.

"Er- yeah? You seemed upset." Harry shook his head hurriedly. Had Ron missed everything that had just happened?

"I am upset! Why aren't you upset?" Ron paused, his face pensive.

"I don't really have anything that I'm upset about to be honest." Harry stared.

"Fleur Delacour just brutally rejected you," Ron blanched. Harry hadn't necessarily meant to be that ruthless about it, but Ron's laissez-fair attitude was starting to get to him. "And you're not upset?" Ron shook his head, and Harry was caught by surprise. He moved away from Ron to stand against the opposite wall, crossing his arms against his chest.

"Why?" Ron looked up to lock eyes with him.

"I guess because I don't really feel rejected. To be honest, I have no idea why I even asked her apart from taking leave of all my senses apparently. I mean, yeah, I'm embarrassed, but-"

"So, you didn't actually want to go with her?" Harry hated how timid his voice sounded at the moment, and felt even worse about it when Ron gave him a wolfish grin in return.

"Are you jealous?" Harry swallowed hard, wishing his mouth weren't so dry.

"No! I just- I thought-" Ron moved forward boxing him in against the wall. Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"You just…?" Harry could see Ron's eyes shining a dark forbidding blue in the dim light and he couldn't fight the person who knew him better than any other. What did it matter to him whether he was jealous anyway? Wouldn't that be normal?

"Okay, FINE. I'm jealous. I just thought, maybe she had something I don't, or-" Ron's eyes widened and before Harry could focus on what was happening he was being kissed roughly. Harry's hands instinctively found their way around Ron's neck as his friend dominated the kiss. He could feel Ron grunting into his mouth as his tongue slid passionately against the roof of his mouth. Ron always kissed him as though it were the last thing he would ever do, and Harry couldn't breath and was starting to get dizzy when Ron broke away from him. His rough hands gripped Harry's cheeks hard, tilting his head up to look into those dangerous cobalt eyes.

"Nobody holds a candle to you, baby boy." Ron smiled earnestly, and Harry felt himself harden underneath his robes. As much as he professed to hate that nickname, Ron kept using it, and it always served to make him a bit hot under the collar if he was being honest with himself. He chose not to address it this time around, convincing himself it was because they had other things to address right now, but knowing it was because it was starting to grow on him. At least he hadn't called him 'Angel' again…

"I just thought, maybe it was because… You know, I'm a guy… Or-" Ron barked out a laugh.

"Harry, I'm gay."

"Well, you know, you say that, but-"

"Harry, no, I'm about ninety-five percent sure I am completely gay. Fleur is just…Well, you said she's a veela. Maybe that's it. I don't ever think of her like that when she's not around. It's only while she's walking by it's like I get confunded or something." Harry nodded, rolling those thoughts around in his head. It seemed incredibly familiar to how he felt about Cho. He never entertained thoughts about her unless she was walking by, but other than that he only ever thought about Ron.

"But trust me Harry, you're the only one I ever think about when I'm alone." Ron's voice dropped and Harry instinctively rolled his head back to expose his neck as Ron's breath ghosted over his ear. He wanted to just let Ron manhandle him, he no longer wanted to talk. Or he did want to talk, just not about what he knew they needed to talk about. He just wanted Ron to tell him all the filthy things he wanted to do to him like he usually did. To sink into that deep husky voice like a warm bath… He forced himself to speak up, hating the words that came out of him all the more.

"And you aren't upset that I asked Cho Chang even though I told you I wouldn't?" Ron stopped his descent, and for several long seconds the silence was palpable. He could still feel Ron's warm breath against his neck, and for a wild moment he considered just physically distracting Ron so that they wouldn't have to talk about this. That seemed like a cowardly thing to do though, and this needed to be said. Even if Ron tried to pretend he was okay, Harry knew he most likely wasn't. He didn't want things to get awkward, but he didn't want Ron wrapped up thinking that he had been lying to him this entire time. So he waited in painful silence until Ron's breathing evened out and he drew away. Harry hated the small smile on his lips because he knew it was fake.

"I asked you to ask her. I thought it would be good for you, and you did, and she wasn't available anyway. So what does it matter?"

"It matters because I told you I wouldn't, and then I did. Doesn't that…doesn't that bother you?" Ron shook his head.

"Harry, I know you didn't do something like that to hurt me. I've known you too long to know you'd do something like that. If you want to talk about it, then you can. I'll always listen. If you don't, then I'm not going to worry myself over it. If you want to be with me, then that's my dream come true. If things are working for you then they're perfectly fine for me. If you don't want to be with me any more you're under no obligation to. I'll understand and we'll go back to being friends." Despite the low tone in which he said it, Harry knew every word was true.

But he wanted to be honest with his friend, even if he knew he'd rather be with Ron than anyone else didn't mean they shouldn't talk about things like this. That's what you did in a relationship, right? His aunt and uncle were always lying to each other about what they spent money on and Harry didn't want a relationship like theirs. He wanted one like… like his parents had maybe? Although, he didn't even know what his parent's relationship had been like. He just wanted it to be a good relationship. He only knew that he didn't want Ron hiding anything from him. He owed him an explanation, and he was going to give him one regardless of whether Ron wanted one or not.

"I think I just…" Ron raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"You still like her, don't you? Is that what this is about?" Harry nodded, then paused, then shook his head. Ron's eyebrow raised even further.

"Yes. I mean- no. I don't know. I…only really feel something for her if I see her. Then, it's only because she looks pretty. I don't know her or anything. I don't even really want to GET to know her either. I don't ever think about us together. I don't want to date her. So, I'm not really sure if I fancy her or not." He looked up at Ron in confusion, and saw he was frowning slightly.

"Harry, you know you didn't do anything wrong, right?" Now he was even more confused.

"What? Of course I have. Did you miss everything I just said?" Ron shook his head, smiling slightly.

"I'm pretty sure I heard everything perfectly, but what did you do wrong?" Harry gaped wordlessly at his lover, completely dumbfounded.

"I'm supposed to be with you! And then I go and ask Cho to the ball, after I told you I wouldn't and-" Ron's fingers hovered in front of his lips gently, preventing him from speaking.

"Let's start there. Harry, you aren't 'supposed' to be with me. I told you before nothing is set in stone. You're free to see other people if you want to," Ron said softly. Harry desperately wanted to interrupt. This didn't sound at all like what he had wanted. "I want you to figure out what you like, and what you want. Even if it isn't me. Parvati seems to like you, do you like her? You're going to the ball with her, I'm sure if you wanted to see her again she'd-" Harry ripped Ron's hand away from his mouth hurriedly, and pushed Ron away from him. The taller boy almost stumbled and fell, but managed to correct his stance leaning heavily on the opposite wall.

"Why would you think I want that?!" Harry shouted thickly, he could feel tears welling up behind his glasses. He didn't often cry, but this seemed to be the year for it. Twice this term already, and he couldn't help but feel ashamed. "I don't want to just be with anyone who walks by, and yes I realize the irony of what I just said, but I really don't! I want to be with you, Ron. I wish you'd stop pushing me into being with anyone else. I don't care if you're a bloke, or- or that you're family is poor. I just want… I just want…"

Ron's arms were around him in moments, and strong hands were wiping away the tears starting to collect on his cheeks. His glasses already had streams of warm liquid blurring and distorting his vision, and he chose not to move as Ron removed them. Just as gently as he had handled his glasses before, just as reverently, he cleaned them on the edge of his robes. Harry marveled at the sight. Nobody had ever cleaned his glasses. In fact, when he had been younger, Dudley had relished in stealing his glasses at night and smothering the lenses in substances he'd have to wash off later. It wasn't until he'd painted them with some of his aunt's darker nail polish they'd eventually told him to stop- so that they wouldn't ever have to buy him new glasses.

He'd never seen somebody handle this for him before. His glasses were a very personal item to him, he needed them to see, so they were always with him. And even though they weren't the best frames in the world they were still his. It gave him one of those warm feelings in his stomach, and at the same time almost made him feel a bit panicky. He wasn't quite sure why, but he liked it when Ron did things like this. Ron obviously knew he could clean them himself, but he chose to do it for him. It was like he had someone that cared about him. But he knew other people cared about him too. What made Ron so different? He still wasn't sure, but he loved the feeling it gave him. It seemed like such an intimate thing to do. Then again, so was kissing, but kissing didn't always make him feel that way. What was wrong with him? Ron slid his glasses carefully back on his face, just as he had done once before, and from the look on his face seemed to know he had broken some boundary.

"Should I not touch your glasses anymore? I can sto-"

"No!" Why did he sound out of breath. Ron was looking surprised, and sad. His eyes were wide, but not carefree and excited like normal. Now he had a small frown on his face, and Harry hated seeing him frown. It looked wrong somehow, because Ron was usually smiling even if he didn't feel like it.

"Harry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted you to know you aren't tied to me in any way. I'm not trying to restrain you, and if you do want to try seeing someone else whether to put us in perspective or if you just want to- you can. I want you to be happy, that's all I want deep down. So…I'm sorry. I just don't want you to feel bad for something like this. It's not like we're married or anything, but I'm not trying to push you one way or the other." Harry nodded, and moved back into Ron's embrace only to have Ron take a step back. Harry felt his stomach plummet. Ron WAS upset with him.

"Wait, Harry. I think, maybe we should cool off for a bit. I think, maybe we've been moving a bit fast and that could be causing some of the confusion. If we just, cool it, for awhile maybe it will-"

"Please?" Ron paused. Harry really didn't want to cry again, but at Ron's words suddenly the corridor seemed a lot more chilly than it had before. He wasn't sure if now that he had been with Ron if he could go back to just being alone. He couldn't describe the pit of despair that seemed to bottom out at his words. He just wanted things to go back to being exciting and easy. He wanted Ron to hold him in his extraordinarily warm arms. To be told 'no' now was unthinkable.

"Please…?"

"Yes, please, Ron. I just need you…to hold me." As much as Harry hated to admit it. That is precisely what he had in mind. He'd never said anything like that in his life. Nobody had ever held him to his knowledge. Nobody had ever comforted him. Why would-?

"Oh, baby boy…" Harry could hear Ron's voice waver as he drew him close. And just contact was enough to make him smile wide. Ron's arms were spread across his back and Harry drew his hands to lace in Ron's dark red hair he could barely see. He could feel Ron bend down, breathing heavily in the crook of his neck and he couldn't help sighing in relief.

"Ronnie…" He could feel Ron shiver slightly in his arms.

"If you keep saying my name like that, we're going to have a big problem here in a few minutes." Harry huffed out a laugh. He could hear sarcasm dripping from the other boy's voice, and knew things were back to normal. Ron leaned back, his real smile back on his face as he surveyed his lover.

"You okay, baby boy?" Ron's voice was uncharacteristically soft and Harry felt himself still, blood pounding through his ears, his cheeks flush. Gods… what was Ron doing to him? How did that make him aroused?

Ron's eyes widened as he shifted against him, his gaze flicked down and then up again.

"Did-Did that just make you…?" Harry was glad it was dark, praying Ron couldn't see his flush.

"No! I-"

"Oh Merlin. It did!" Ron laughed and Harry felt perfectly justified in hitting him hard in the shoulder.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry for laughing. I just thought we were having a moment, and then you just… How did you go from Shooting Star to Firebolt so quickly?" Harry shifted to put some space between them, but Ron pulled him in by the waist.

"I-I dunno. I just… You make me feel safe or something, as long as you keep calling me that stupid name. It just does things to me." Harry expected his friend to take the piss, but he spent several minutes in silence just staring at Ron's broad chest stretched underneath his uniform. After a few minutes he looked up. There was a strange look in Ron's eyes, almost like fear, before Ron pulled him back to his chest pressing one large hand to the back of his head. With the other large hand pressing into his lower back Harry felt completely blanketed in warmth.

"I'll always do my best to protect you Harry. You're my baby boy now, if you want to be. You know, I just started calling you that because you're just so cute and short," Harry smacked him playfully in the shoulder in response to that, but Ron continued to speak in the same level tone. Harry got the feeling he wasn't joking. "But now… I guess maybe it's because you've never had somebody this close to you or say anything like this to you before, but I won't abuse the privilege. If you like it, it stays." This was his chance to say something, to tell Ron to stop calling him 'baby' in that loving tone.

He wanted to say anything, he really did, but he couldn't find it in him to tell him to stop. Ron was right. He had never had such loving words spoken to him, just like kissing his scar, cleaning his glasses, hearing Ron loved him… It made him feel safe. Which, he didn't really feel often enough for his liking. He felt like someone could see past his name and fame, to the raw underbelly of the person underneath, the person in desperate need of a loving presence. And not just from any person- from his best friend, who had been with him from the moment they met on the train, the one he felt more strongly for than anyone he had ever met.

"I…I like it." The only response was Ron squeezing him tightly. Harry was not sure how long they stood there. It was certainly long enough for his arousal to return flaccid, and that was just as well. He wanted this moment with Ron, the need for emotional intimacy outweighing the physical. When Harry finally looked up Ron's eyes were shining almost liquid like, and Harry wondered vaguely if he had been about to cry too. Before he could ask however he felt lips, soft and reassuring on his. They rested lightly on his for a few moments, unmoving, and Harry appreciated it all the more for the volumes in spoke. When they broke away, it was like a spell letting loose, where he hadn't realized how lightheaded he had become until it was over.

"I love you, baby boy." Harry felt a shiver run up his spine at the words spoken so close to his ear, so soft, so warm…

"I love you too."


End file.
